Madness With The Bliss
by Severusgirl
Summary: COMPLETED STORY. Snape is forced to play host when a ditzy muggle woman stumbles accidentally into Hogwarts. Humorous, sexy and NOT a Mary-Sue, I promise. Try it and see. LOL.
1. Hot Date With A Stone

**Chapter One - A Hot Date With A Stone**

They announced it was the hottest summer since records began. Hotter than the legendary heatwave of '76, apparently.

Driving along at 40mph with every window open helped. The sweat soon began to trickle though, whenever she stopped the car to check the map - which was often. 

Andi Carver had no sense of direction, which was a bit of a disadvantage when driving alone in unknown territory. Her boyfriend, or rather _ex_-boyfriend, John, had joked 'you could turn Andi round once in her own garden and she'd lose her bearings', and she couldn't deny it was true. 

However, she was now confident she knew where she was going. The castle towards which she was heading was now in view. There should be a turning off to the right about two miles up this road. 

The tarmac ahead shimmered in the heat. She shifted in her seat, parting her legs as much as possible, trying to entice the cool air up her dress; through her dress; _anywhere._

Even her Rolling Stones tape had given up the ghost. Poor Mick had begun to sound as though he were singing under water and the heat had finally dissolved _'Honky Tonk Woman'_ into a garbled mess. Rarely had she driven without music. 

Switching off the tape, she almost missed the turning. Skidding to a halt, she had just enough room to swing the car into the track that was sign-posted to the castle. 

Parking the car and stepping out of that oversized microwave into an equally relentless heat, she crunched across the parched heather to the edge of the grounds and gazed. 

The site was that of what once had been a great castle. The area was massive, and although a great deal of stone still stood upright, clearly it was just a fraction of what the castle had been. 

Andi walked around for a while, wishing there could be just a breath of wind to relieve the heat. The castle stood high, overlooking the arid countryside. The sun was taking no prisoners. 

"Well, I'm here, Gran," she whispered. "I made it to your castle, just as you wanted." 

There was a lake, way off on the other side, which looked cool and inviting, but she really needed a rest right now. 

She found a particularly tall piece of wall which offered some shade from the sun, and flopped down, the cool of the stone delicious against her back. 

She rummaged through the huge holdall she called a handbag and found the bottle of water. It was still on the cool side and as she drank, she allowed the water to trickle from the corners of her mouth and run down her chin, down her throat, between her breasts. 

She was alone. No one else had been mad enough to drive up here in the midday sun. 

The heat shimmied from the ground and distorted the ruins, making them waver and wobble as she looked at them through the haze. The silence was bliss. There was almost a feeling of time standing still, an eerie shift in the momentum of things. If Robert the Bruce were to appear right now, she wouldn't be surprised. 

She put the bottle of water to her forehead. Even in the shade it was hot and she'd deliberately dressed in her coolest clothes - a white, strappy, Indian-cotton dress which stopped inches above her knees; white leather flip flops and the smallest G-string she owned - the white one with three little rhinestone stars on the back. She particularly liked this one because the stars sat just below the tattoo of a dolphin she had at the very top of her buttocks, and it gave the impression the dolphin was leaping over the stars. 

Not that there was anyone to appreciate it these days. Not since John had left six weeks ago. 

She closed her eyes and pointed her face to the sky. She refused to think about John right now. She'd come up here to get away from all that. 

She let her hand fall to the ground and idly, she played with the pebbles there, lifting them up and hearing them clatter to the ground through her open fist. 

This is what she needed - quiet and solitude and a handful of worry-stones. A glass of ice-cold wine would be nice but, hey. 

The stones felt pleasant - all smooth, cool and... 

She glanced down at the last one remaining in her hand. She had thought it felt strange and now she looked, she could see why. The stone was dark grey, flat, rough and shaped like an arch. There was a hole in the centre, exactly the same shape as the stone itself. Three dark lines were carved down either side of the hole. It was a miniature archway. 

Andi stared at it. In all her life she had never seen such a perfectly formed and unusual stone. 

She had inherited a fascination for stones with holes in from her Gran. Gran had collected them and had told Andi from a very early age that stones with holes in were sacred and had a special magic all of their own. 

Little Andrea had listened in awe and taken it all on board. Now she was grown, she smiled at her Gran's eccentric beliefs, but the fascination for stones with holes had stayed with her and she now had a little collection of her own which stood in a large white bowl in her bathroom. It was her way of remembering the woman she had been so close to. 

Palming the stone, she stood up and collected her things together. Throwing the bag over her shoulder she began making her way towards the lake when she stopped in her tracks. 

Now she had moved position, a different part of the castle ruins had come into view and one section in particular had caught her eye. 

Standing a little way to the left on its own was a small archway, perfectly formed in amongst the crumbling, tumbledown ruins. It was made of rough stone and had three deep lines carved down each side of its gap. 

Andi stared at the archway and then slowly, deliberately, opened her sweaty hand, revealing the stone. 

Almost too stunned to look, she forced her eyes down. The stone, just as long as her thumb and only a little wider, lay innocently in her palm. 

She looked back at the archway; back at the stone; back at the archway... 

There was no mistake, she wasn't going mad, the stone in her hand was an exact miniature of the archway standing in front of her. 

In a daze she began walking towards the archway. She put her hand out to touch it. It was solid enough, she wasn't dreaming. She ran her hands down inside the carved ridges. She held the stone up in front of her as she walked through the archway to inspect the other side. 

The stillness of the day was snatched away by a sudden chilling wind blowing with a force gale behind her. It whipped her hair over her face and her dress up around her thighs. Goose pimples raced to the surface of her skin and the sweat on her body immediately froze. There was a frightening sensation, rather like something were trying to rip her insides out through her navel. She gasped and grabbed at the side of the archway for support as her head started to spin and her knees began to give way. 

Her last conscious, panicky thought was "there's no one around to help me..." 

She felt nothing as her limp body fell to the ground. 


	2. Are You For Real?

**CHAPTER TWO**

**ARE YOU FOR REAL?**

****

****There was a comforting coolness on her cheek, she knew that much. 

Slowly forcing her eyes open, she found she was face down, level with the grass. Her head might have been split in two, she wasn't sure, and her body felt as though an elephant had sat on her. 

She rolled over on to her back and groaned. There was a churning sensation in her stomach that didn't bode well for the immediate future. 

"Can you stand?" 

A voice! 

Clipped, abrupt and not very friendly, but nevertheless, a voice. Help was at hand. 

"I'm...not sure," she answered. "I think...I think I fainted..." She looked up and tried very hard to get her eyes into focus. 

All she could see was a blurred figure, dark with a pale face and black eyes that seemed to be glaring at her. 

A hand was extended. She took it and felt herself pulled to her feet. The sudden elevation made her reel. She put her hand to her forehead...ohhhh Goddddd... 

...she bent forward and threw-up. The figure stepped back just in time to avoid vomit-covered shoes. 

Andi heaved again, but it was a dry wretch and although she still felt bad, she thought perhaps the actual sickness had finished. 

"Any more?" 

She shook her head, not looking up. 

"Here." A large handkerchief was thrust under her nose. She took it, gratefully, wiped her mouth and blew her nose. Without thinking, she handed it back. 

"Delightful," sneered the voice. "Please feel free to keep it." 

Andi lifted her head in an attempt to see her rescuer. 

"Ohhh!" 

She had time to take in hard, pitch black eyes, long lank black hair and an extraordinarily hawk-like nose, before the world began to swim again. 

Her legs could no longer support her, and she gave up the struggle. Teetering on the edge of oblivion, she was aware of arms at her back and under her knees. Hoisted up to her rescuer, her nasal senses picked up a sweet herby scent as she felt herself being carried along and through into a cool building. 

Semi-conscious, she felt jogged to sickness again as she was carried along and along and along for what seemed like _ever_, until a door was kicked open and she was put down on a blissfully soft surface. 

She was aware of sounds, of movement, but really, she couldn't be bothered to look. Sleep seemed wonderfully inviting, and just as she was about to accept, a hand came behind her neck and lifted her head. 

"Here. This will help the sickness." 

The tone, the touch, were perfunctory. There was no caring bedside manner detectable in either. 

Not bothering to open her eyes, she felt the edge of a glass offered to her mouth. She parted her lips to allow the liquid in. 

It wasn't entirely pleasant, but tolerable. It felt thick and syrupy and it warmed her as she swallowed. 

A second sip, which strangely tasted slightly better than the first and seemed to jump-start her. Her head began to clear rapidly and her stomach felt slightly more settled. 

"One more..." 

It felt almost as though the warm liquid was flushing the sickness out of her system and cleansing it. She even felt well enough to open her eyes. 

She was lying on a dark red sofa. Her rescuer crouched next to her, a glass of rich amber liquid in his hand. 

Seeing her eyes open, he put her head back on the soft surface, took his hand away from her neck and stood up. 

"Thank you," she managed to stutter to his back as he turned away abruptly. "I think I must have fainted." 

"Evidently." 

He bent to a plain wooden chair and picked up a dark grey blanket which he shook open and threw over her. 

"Oh, thanks, but you know, I'm much too warm..." 

"I am less concerned with your temperature than your modesty," he said, coolly. "You appear to have lost some clothing." 

"Huh?" 

She felt under the blanket. Her dress was there, her G-string was there... 

"No, I don't think so," she said with relief. 

He lifted an eyebrow. 

"That is your normal state of dress?" 

"Ye-ah..." She replied slowly, slightly amused at the hint of disapproval in his voice. Where had _he_ been hiding lately? 

"Extraordinary." 

She looked at him and wondered how old he was. She calculated anywhere in his forties...certainly not old enough to react like a dried-up maiden aunt, unless.. 

Perhaps he was a priest? He was dressed in black, his shirt buttoned to the high collar - in the middle of a heat wave; and now she looked around, this place _could_ be part of a church. 

"However, the Headmaster will be here very soon and you may wish to remain covered for the duration of that meeting." 

"_Headmaster?_ Where the hell am I?" 

"I am quite certain I am not the person to explain that to you, Miss..?" 

"Carver. Andi...I mean, Andrea Carver." She offered him a hand. Instead of taking it, he turned away. 

"I expect the Headmaster very soon," he said, shortly.


	3. Welcome And Not So Welcome

**CHAPTER THREE**

**WELCOME AND NOT SO WELCOME**

The man busied himself around the room. He moved in silence. He moved precisley. He moved in a way that communicated his relcutant tolerance to her presence.

Andi kept silent and tried to make herself as small as possible as she studied the room.

It was comfortably large, but taller than it was wide.

At right angles to the sofa on which she lay was a wall dominated by a grey-stone mantelpiece, quite plain except for two large scrolls either side of the opening. In the actual fireplace, which was wide enough to have housed a small sofa and probably tall enough for her to stand upright in, was a huge fire-basket which, Andi noted, was laid, ready to be lit.

To the left of the mantelpiece was a closed door.

The next wall along - the one opposite the sofa - housed a built-in dresser of very dark-red wood. It ran almost the length of the wall and up to the ceiling. The top half had many glazed doors, secured by old-fashioned brass catches, behind which stood what appeared to be jars of different coloured liquids, some with things suspended in them; and microscope-type instruments. The bottom half was made up of alchemy drawers, their labels framed in brass.

In the middle of the room was a long refectory table of dark wood; too long to command just two chairs which stood around it.

Apart from a set of scales, chopping board and a pile of leaves the man seemed to be working with, there stood a solitary bowl of green apples.

Even though it was quite cool in this room, she wondered what kind of man wore such suffocating clothes in the middle of a heat wave? The mandarin-style collar on his shirt stood high on his neck. The cuffs reached half way down the back of his hands.

Andi's eyes travelled to the long, slender fingers working deftly at chopping whatever it was on the board - good pianist's hands, she thought.

He looked up and caught her staring. He opened his mouth to say something when there came a soft knock at the door.

Just when Andi thought this day had had its fill of shocks, in walked their visitor.

An elderly man with the longest beard Andi had ever seen, equally long grey hair and half-moon spectacles balanced on his crooked nose, entered the room, bringing a tangible energy in with him. He was dressed in emerald green robes that swept the floor, and a green Chinese silk hat. Andi didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cower.

The two men acknowledged each other: ("I left headquarters as soon as I received your message...") and then the elderly man turned to her and beamed.

"Miss Carver," he said, taking a sprightly step towards her, his hand extended. "Albus Dumbledore. Welcome to Hogwarts!"

She shook the hand. It felt warm and smooth, and it made her feel for the first time since her arrival, safe.

He sat in front of her on a chair provided by the younger man and folded his hands in his lap.

"I imagine you are a little confused right now." he said, gently.

She nodded.

"Hmmm. Well, I shall try and explain things as best I can, but I do warn you - they may seem a little strange..."

He went on to explain about Hogwarts being a school for wizards. How the castle was charmed so that Muggles - non-magic people such as herself - only saw ruins, but that somehow she had managed to cross the boundary into the wizard world.

She stared at him, her eyes getting wider as the story progressed. This had to be the biggest set-up in the world, surely? What joker had gone to all this trouble?

"Yes, I realise it is hard to accept," he said, looking into her eyes. "Tell me, Miss Carver, have you had refreshments?"

"No, Headmaster,' answered the younger man. 'I have administered a draft of _Opprimotium_, which needed time to clear."

"Very well. Tea, Miss Carver?" He waved his hand across the surface of the table.

Andi gave a little scream as a tray with teapot, milk jug, sugar bowl and cups and saucers appeared out of thin air.

"One lump or two?"

"Just...just milk, thank you. How...how...?" The cup shook in its saucer as she held it. The tea was real! The tea was hot!

"You see, my dear, it is magic," he said, gently. "I am afraid this place will seem very strange to you. You will find many things you don't understand. Unfortunately, however, you will have to stay here for the foreseeable future until we can find a way of returning you home."

"Headmaster," cut in the younger man and Andi detected a distinct edge to his voice. "Miss Carver cannot possibly stay here. There is only the bare minimum of staff, the school is empty..."

"Exactly! The very place for her to stay; away from prying wizard eyes. I'm sure you will make an exemplary host, Severus."

The younger man's face darkened further still. "Heamaster," he said through clenched teeth. "May I have a word..." He glanced at Andi. "..outside?"

"Certainly."

The door closed, leaving Andi alone. She leaned back against the cushion, the tea cup in her lap.

"Toto," she said to herself. "I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."

She could hear the younger man's angry voice protesting; "...will cause all manner of problems...how do you expect me to...absolutely refuse to play nurse-maid..." drifting through the door.

There was a short pause and then the door opened.

"That is settled then," said Dumbledore, beaming as he walked back into the room. "Miss Carver, my colleague, Professor Severus Snape, will be delighted to be your host for the next few days."

Professor Severus Snape looked like thunder.

"Now, I must go," announced Dumbledore. "But I shall return in a few days to see how you are. I have suggested a room just along the corridor from here - I know how easy it can be to get lost, especially in a large castle such as this." His eyes twinkled as he looked at her, giving her the odd feeling he knew about her bad sense of direction. "Oh, and there is another room on the first floor which I believe may be of interest to you. I have drawn you a map..."

He handed her a thick piece of folded paper, smiled and left the room.


	4. ButterSide Down

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**BUTTER-SIDE DOWN**

Her room was gorgeous.

Dominated by a huge four-poster bed with heavy crewl-work curtains tied back against the posts and matching bedcover, the room looked comfortable and welcoming despite the rough stone walls and flagstone floor.

Snape walked across the room to a door on the left and threw it open.

"There is a bathroom through here," he said, shortly. "You should find everything you need."

She passed him as she went to look, and gasped.

Mirrors and terracotta marble everywhere, including thick Roman-style pillars at each corner of the enormous sunken bath. Ornate gold taps adorned both the bath and the hand-basin, and the toilet and bidet sparkled brilliant white.

She turned back to the bedroom. Snape had walked over to a heavy oak wardrobe.

"Should you wish clean clothes...or rather," he looked disdainfully at her bare legs. "_some_ clothes, this wardrobe will provide whatever you may need."

She went to the wardrobe, peered inside and gasped again. At least two-dozen beautiful summer dresses hung neatly on padded hangers. She reached in and parted them, gazing at them.

Evening silks, in jewel colours of sapphire, emerald, ruby, and daytime cotton, soft, thin and flowing. She picked out a deep-green silk floor-length dress and held it up against her.

"And is one expected to dress for dinner?" she joked, in her best posh accent.

"Miss Carver, I shall be dining in my usual manner," he replied, stonily. "_You_ may wear whatever you wish."

"Oh," she said, surprised. "We really _are_ having dinner together?" The feeling did not immediately fill her with joy.

"I have my instructions, Miss Carver."

She sighed inwardly and put the dress back in the wardrobe. Didn't this man _ever_ lighten-up?

"Oh!" She said again, having a sudden thought. "My bag - I don't remember seeing it..."

"I have instructed one of the house-elves to bring it to your room."

"One of the _what?"_

Before he could answer, there was a knock on the door. Andi stifled a scream as a two-foot high grey... _thing_ entered the room, struggling with her bag which was almost as big as him.

He plonked it on the floor before giving a little bow and leaving, silently.

She stared up at Snape in disbelief.

"As the Headmaster warned you, there will be many things you don't understand."

"It's not that I don't understand them," she snapped, riled at his continuing air of condescension "I just don't _believe_ what I'm seeing."

Irritated, she snatched up her bag and threw it onto the bed, recklessly.

It is an established fact that toast, when dropped, will always land on the carpet butter-side down. It is also a fact that when a girl's handbag tips up, it will not be the innocent sunglasses or purse that display themselves prominently over the floor.

The bag clung to the edge of the bed for a fraction of a second before sliding to the ground, sending objects clattering over the stone floor.

Diving after the bag, she managed to scramble together her perfume, bottle of water, lucky penguin, paracetamol and (_shit)_ her dirty novel. Her hairbrush and (_fuck_) her tampon-holder, hopefully before he noticed too much.

What she didn't manage to grab was a five inch bullet-shaped object which hit the ground and sped across the floor towards Snape. Andi watched in horror as the mini-vibrator rolled and rolled, stopping only when it reached the tip of Snape's shoe.

He looked down and stooped to pick it up slowly. Glancing at the gold lettering stamped on the side of the pink leather pouch, he held it out to her, a corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he did so.

She snatched it away, her cheeks hot.

"Thank you," she said tightly, stuffing the vibrator back in her bag. Damn it! It had been a joke present from her best friend Liz when John had dumped her, but Andi reluctantly had to admit, it had come in useful during the lonely nights without John.

"The Headmaster seemed under the impression you have trouble with directions. Do you think you can manage to find your way back to my living-quarters for dinner at eight o'clock sharp?" he said, sarcastically.

"Yes," she answered quickly, busying herself with the bag to avoid looking at him, her cheeks still warm.

"As it _is_ just three doors along the corridor, there seems little potential for losing your way."

"I'll be fine," she snapped. "_Looking forward to it."_

"Eight o'clock, then," he said, going to the door and opening it, but then turned to speak over his shoulder. "Oh, and I should perhaps warn you,' he gave a derisive smirk as his eyes flickered to her bag. 'Muggle..'gadgets' do not work at Hogwarts."


	5. SmallTalk

Thank's everyone for reviewing; and to whoever recommended my story. I've just begun another story called 'Tonight's The Night', which is a Hermione romance - in case you're interested.

Celtic Elf - the object that Snape picked up was Andi's mini vibrator.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**SMALL TALK**

At five minutes to eight she was bathed, cooled, relaxed and dressed.

She had spent a long time soaking in the sunken bath, luxuriating in the opulent surroundings and the curiously relaxing aroma of the bath oils.

The room, as her bedroom, was lit by torches ensconced on the walls, and the reflection of their flames in the mirrors, was wonderfully hypnotic.

Her dark, shoulder length hair, for once had behaved itself and curled nicely into her neck without the need to threaten it with tongs - not that she could here, anyhow.

Even as she had stood looking into the wardrobe, deciding what to wear, she had wondered why she was taking so much trouble. Perhaps it was his disdainful attitude towards her that fed the need to prove something - that she was an adult who could meet him on equal terms, rather than being at a disadvantage because she was a...what did they call her...a 'Muggle'.

At one minute to eight, she let herself out of her room and walked down the corridor, counting the doors. On the third one, she knocked.

He opened the door to her.

"You found the room and you are on time," he said, in a tone that immediately reduced her to pupil status.

He moved to the chair at the right hand side of the table and pulled it away, indicating she should sit.

'_Think Katharine Hepburn; think Katharine Hepburn,'_ she chanted to herself, and strode elegantly towards the proffered chair.

She had chosen to wear a silver-grey sleeveless silk dress. It was ankle-length - which should cut the quips about her dress-code - with a slightly full skirt that swished around as she walked.

As demurely as she knew how, she lowered herself into the chair. Snape sat to her right, at the head of the table.

"We have lamb," he announced, indicating the dishes before them. "Please help yourself."

"How ve-ry kind, Professor." _No, no, no! THINK Katharine Hepburn, not BE her._

_"_Wine?"

They filled their plates and began eating in silence. Andi found the silence awkward but, flicking her eyes towards Snape each time she drank some wine, realised he was quite content with the lack of conversation.

She was all ready half way down the rather large glass, drinking quickly out of nerves. She took an extra large gulp of wine and licked her lips.

"It's good wine," she ventured.

"Yes, we are fortunate to have an extensive wine cellar here," he said, absently.

Another long silence broken only by the chink of cutlery on china. She couldn't stand this.

"Do you ever dine to music?" she asked, hopefully.

"Not if I can help it, Miss Carver."

She took another mouthful of wine. Clearing her throat, she said, nervously, "Exactly what is it you teach, Professor Snape?"

His eyes shot towards her briefly. "Potions."

"Oh. Which is...?"

He put down his wine glass carefully. "Which is a rather trite attempt to engage in small-talk, Miss Carver. A custom which I abhor."

She sat there, stunned at such a vitriolic reply. Gathering her wits, she said quietly,

"Professor, I realise I'm an inconvenience to you..." He stared at her, coldly. "and trust me, given the choice, I'd rather be sitting at home watching repeats of _Big Brother; _but as we have been forced into each other's company, wouldn't it be a more pleasant experience for us both if we tried to get along...?"

He leaned on one elbow, resting his chin on the back of long fingers as he regarded her for a moment. "Very well..." he said, and she smiled with relief, not noticing the glint of malicious amusement in his eyes. "Perhaps I could begin by asking _you _a few questions?"

"Yes?"

"I am rather curious - exactly _what_ is the function of the '_Pocket Pleaser'_ which I retrieved from your bedroom floor earlier?"

She felt herself colour.

Bastard!

She took another gulp of wine to cover her embarrassment, and as she felt it slip down, warming her with the stirrings of intoxication, she decided she was not going to allow this man to intimidate her.

"Surely you're not _that_ naive, Professor?" she said, sweetly. "Even _I've_ realised, wizards can be wankers, too."

There was a raw silence as they stared at each other, and then the corner of his mouth twitched and he inclined his head.

"Your next question would be...?" she snapped.

"How old are you, Miss Carver?"

"Twenty-seven. How old are you?" she shot back.

"You wear no wedding ring," he said, ignoring her. "but I imagine there are people who will worry at your absence?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again and stared at her wine glass. The question had taken the wind completely out of her sails. She looked up at him and wondered if the enquiry had been calculated. He seemed to have an uncanny ability to get under her skin.

"Actually, no," she said, quietly. "There's no one." She drained her glass and realised her brain was beginning to fog. She felt his eyes upon her, as though he could see into her thoughts.

"I broke up with my boyfriend recently," she said, the wine loosening her tongue. "I don't know my parents. My mother never bothered to ask my father's name and I haven't seen _her_ since I was three. I was brought up by my grandmother. She died two years ago." Andi swallowed a lump in her throat as she thought of her grandmother. "My friends assume I'm on holiday...so to answer your question, Professor, no one gives a shit about me right now." She gave him a wry smile. When he said nothing, she continued,

"It's been a very strange day," She folded her napkin and put it on the table. "and I think we've exhausted the small talk..." Her eyes flickered towards him and it satisfied her to see his mouth twitch again. "I think I should go to bed..."


	6. Do Not Disturb

**Chapter Six**

**DO NOT DISTURB**

She slept heavily and woke to find herself sprawled face-down across the bed, the covers kicked off.

She turned over on her back, pulling a sheet across her and putting her fingers to her closed eyes, wincing as the events of yesterday slipped casually back into her memory.

How much longer was she going to be trapped here? Dumbledore had given no indication; a 'few days' he had said. She didn't think she could bear to spend one more _hour_ in the company of Professor Snape. Yesterday had felt like a battle all the way. In all her life she had never met such an odious, condescending and, she had to admit, scary man.

Slipping out of the bed, she discovered a tray on the side-table, filled with fruit, cereal, toast and coffee. Andi was not sure how she felt about those elves coming into her room while she was asleep, but the breakfast was good.

She thought she would go out into the grounds this morning and have a wander - that is, if 'teacher' had no objections.

Actually, so what if he had? She wasn't a prisoner here, neither was she under his rule. There shouldn't be a problem.

Washing out her now empty water bottle, she filled it with orange juice which had been left in a jug on her tray and went to pack her bag.

She really _did_ carry too much around with her.

Sighing, she pulled out most of the contents, looking sadly at her personal CD player - now redundant of course, as was her mobile and _'pocket pleaser'_. Her cheeks burned again at the memory of yesterday. Why did he have to pick up _that,_ of all things?; and her lucky penguin, which didn't seem to be working so well these days.

She wouldn't need her purse, credit cards, make-up, filofax - they all came out. In went sun cream; orange juice; shades; scrunchie; music manuscript (she _must _look at that) and the book she'd been reading.

Her knuckles paused in protest as she lifted them to Snape's door a little while later, but she knocked anyway.

She jumped when it was flung open a split-second later - she had heard no approaching steps.

He was dressed as yesterday, in neck-to-toe black. In contrast, his face was almost the colour of candle wax and, didn't he _ever_ think about washing his hair?

A subtle herby scent wafted to her nose. Definitely rosemary mixed with...what - almond oil? It was the sweet, delicate fragrance she had been aware of yesterday when he had carried her into the castle, and it sat awkwardly with the stony face that now stared at her in irritation. It was hard to imagine he would consider such niceties as aftershave.

"Erm," she stuttered, having forgotten how intimidating he was. "I just thought I'd let you know - I'm going for a walk in the grounds. Just...you know...in case you...wondered..." She faltered under his withering glare.

"Thank you, Miss Carver. Anxiety would have eaten away at me otherwise. Now if you don't mind, I am rather busy."

He closed the door, leaving her standing open-mouthed in the corridor.

The way to the front door was actually quite straight-forward. Just to the end of the corridor, up a huge wide staircase and into the Entrance Hall.

The heat almost bowled her over as she walked out of the castle, down the steps and across the lawn. Playing safe and staying in a straight line, she made her way to the lake.

There was a huge Weeping Willow draping itself over the water which offered quite a nice and unusual shade, and she decided to camp there for a while.

Was this really the lake she had seen from the castle ruins yesterday? It seemed bigger somehow. She looked back at the castle and gasped.

It was the first time she had seen it and the sprawl of it was unbelievable. There were ten turrets that she could see and it must be about ten stories high, eleven in some places - it was difficult to count. It was certainly _not _the collection of broken walls she had walked around yesterday. They had been nothing special.

Except...they had been special to her grandmother. Even from a little girl, Andi had noticed the sparkle that would come to Gran's eyes as she recounted a most memorable holiday in Scotland. As she grew older, Andi had worked out that Gran had had a holiday romance, and the result had been Andi's mother.

In her last few years, Andi's grandmother had yearned to revisit the place, but had been too ill to make the journey. Andi had promised to make the journey for her.

And two years after her grandmother's death, here she was.

Except she wasn't.

Hogwarts? Wizards? A sinister professor? _House-elves?_

What the hell had happened yesterday?

In attempt to get her mind back to something she could relate to, she brought out her manuscript and began studying it.

It was the score for a piano concerto. She'd been booked to play it with an amateur orchestra at the end of August and even now, as she looked at the score, the butterflies started.

Still, it would be a challenge - and Lord knows, if she could get through another dinner with Snape, she could get through this.

She studied the score, her fingers moving over an imaginary keyboard, her head nodding as she kept time...

_...if he could just be _civil_ to her..._

_..._E, not E flat...

_...what on earth made a person so bitter...?_

...she missed the beat...

_...perhaps he was a misogynist...?_

...she lost her fingering...

And now he was even disturbing her music!

She closed the manuscript with a snap and pushed her fingers through her hair in exasperation. She just sat for a while, trying to clear her head. She took a mouthful of orange juice, a couple of deep breaths and opened the music again...

When hunger pains made themselves known, she decided it was perhaps time to go back to the castle.

The midday sun belted down. Her skin was cooking, even with a Factor 20. The coolness of the castle was very welcome.

As she flip-flopped down the staircase (a slight pause to reassure herself it _was _the one on the left) it suddenly occurred to her that she didn't know how to get food.

She approached Snape's door.

Should she? Must she?

She gave a timid knock.

There was an audible sigh from behind the door before it was flung open again.

"_Miss Carver?"_

"I'm sorry to bother you, Professor," she said, pulling herself up to her full height in an effort to express confidence. "but how do I get some lunch?"

"There is a brass handle next to the fireplace in your room. Pull it out - speak your order - push it in. The house-elves will bring your food."

He snapped the instructions so impatiently, she nodded her head with each instruction, trying to keep it in her mind.

Ok. Ok. She thought she'd got it. Please God, let her have got it.

"Is there anything else?"

"No...thank you, Professor."

"Then I expect not to be disturbed again until dinner."

"No, sorry, Prof..."

But he'd closed the door.

She walked along to her room. He wasn't just rude, he was nasty. No one should be allowed to get away with that kind of...

She stopped in her tracks. She was certain she had counted three doors and yet...

She retraced her steps.

That door was definitely Snape's.

She walked forward, counting. There was no third door!

She felt the wall. She stood on the other side of the corridor and stared, but there was definitely _no door_!

What the hell was she to do now?

Her eyes darted up the corridor.

Oh, no. Please no. She couldn't possibly bring herself to knock again.

Seriously contemplating going without lunch and sitting in the corridor until dinner rather than disturb Snape again, she must have hesitated for a good ten minutes before ...

Forcing her legs to move, she walked slowly up to Snape's door.

Why? Why did this have to happen?

She lifted her hand and cringed as she knocked.

This time the door opened slowly and the expression that met her through the opening sent icicles down her spine.

"Ahhhhhhmmm," she spluttered. It was taking all her muscle-power to control her bladder. "I...I...can't seem to find my room..."

He stared at her for what seemed an age until she felt like shrinking into the floor.

"What do you mean, you can't find your room?" he hissed. "It is a mere three doors away! Even _you_ cannot _possibly_ have got lost."

"I..I mean, it isn't there. I know where it _should _be, but it isn't."

His lips disappeared as he swept out of the doorway and along the corridor to where her door should have been.

His step faltered as he came face to face with the blank wall. He barred his teeth and his eyes briefly swept the ceiling before he reached to his pocket and pulled out what Andi first thought was a stick.

He pointed it towards the wall.

"_INVERTO!"_

Andi screamed as a bright yellow bolt of light shot from the stick and fizzed on the wall revealing the outline of a door.

When the fizzing had died down, Snape opened the door and went inside. Andi followed slowly, stunned.

"Everything seems in order," he said, looking around the room. "I am afraid we have little control over the antics of our resident poltergeist." Then catching sight of Andi standing in the doorway, he snapped "Is there a problem?"

Andi stared at him in awe. "You...you really _are _a wizard!"

He gave her an exasperated look and moved swiftly to the fireplace. Pulling out a handle, he moved his mouth closer to the wall.

"Miss Carver wishes lunch. Poached salmon..." he glanced over to her and she nodded. "New potatoes and salad. Wine. Coffee." He then replaced the handle.

"You didn't need to do that, I think I could have managed," she told him quietly, still dazzled by what she had seen.

"I was reluctant to run the risk of being disturbed again," he said, shortly.

"Well, thank you, and...I love fish...how did you guess?"

"I saw it in your stars, Miss Carver." And he left the room.


	7. Stars and Maps

**Chapter Seven**

******STARS AND MAPS**

Andi thought she'd had enough sun for a while and decided to stay indoors for the rest of the afternoon - but what to do? 

There was a soft knock on the door and a house-elf entered. 

"I is Lollie your house-elf, Miss," she said, meekly. "I have Miss Carver's clothes from yesterday." 

She walked over to the bed and laid Andi's white cotton dress and G-string on the covers, along with the silver-grey dinner dress she had worn the previous evening. The elf had to stand on tiptoes to reach. 

"Th..thank you, Lollie," said Andi. Would she ever get used to seeing these beings? 

The little elf picked up the silk dress and carried it to the wardrobe where she climbed up and hung the dress reverently on the hanger. Then she returned and did the same thing with Andi's white dress. 

When she came back a third time, she picked up the G-string and was making her way to the wardrobe drawers, when she stopped and turned to look at Andi. 

"Please Miss, but may Lollie be so bold...Lollie is never seeing such clothing before," she held up the G-string. "And wonders what it might be?" 

Andi couldn't help smiling. 

"It's called a G-string...a thong." Then seeing the blank look on the little elf's face, "It's...knickers," she indicated her lower-half, to illustrate. 

Lollie held up the item and stared at it, her eyes wide. 

"Muggle-ladies is perhaps being made different to wizard-ladies?" she said. 

Andi laughed. 

"Nothing would surprise me," she said. 

Lollie left and Andi sat smiling on the bed until, without warning, a sudden realisation sent a feeling of horror cascading through her veins. 

Sweat-glands blasting on all four cylinders, she ran to the wardrobe drawer and wrenched it open. 

There, folded neatly, was her G-string, the three little rhinestone stars twinkling up at her. She put her hand to the top of her buttocks where the dolphin was tattooed onto her skin. 

_"...I love fish...how did you guess?"_

_"I saw it in your stars, Miss Carver..."_

__O H M Y G O D! 

How much had he _seen_ while she'd been lying unconscious on the grass yesterday? Obviously if he'd seen the stars and the dolphin, there wasn't a lot more _to_ see. 

Oh, this was _bad _news. 

Cancel dinner; cancel _ever_ coming face-to-face _ever _with him _ever_ again. 

_Ever. _

On fire with embarrassment, she sat on the edge of the bed and rocked back and forth, her head in her hands. 

Fuck! 

Fuck! 

Fuck! 

She went to the bathroom and splashed cold water over her face. Looking up into the mirror at her stricken face, she groaned and splashed again. 

She had to get out, try and escape this awful cringing embarrassment - but where? 

Walking out of the bathroom, patting her face dry with a towel, wondering if she could put it over her head permanently, she spotted the piece of paper Dumbledore had given her yesterday. It was lying, still folded, on her bedside table. 

She picked it up and opened it. There was a gorgeous ink-drawn map, with lots of squiggly writing and beautiful drawings on it. It started in the Dungeons (_'your room'_), and ended on the first floor ('_green door - silver doorknob - turn anti-clockwise_). 

Well, concentrating on following this map should take her mind off...Oh, God, she didn't want to think about it... 

She walked down the corridor, shivered as she passed Snape's door and hurried along to the staircase. In the Entrance Hall (_'lots of black and white tiles and plants')_ she found the staircase easily (_'an armadillo on each side of the bannisters, my dear)_ and went up. Turning right ('_two Ali-Baba urns - under no circumstances remove the lids'_), up the corridor and a left turn (_'statue of Horace the Heavy'). _She walked along looking for the portrait of Lady Evelyn McGraff. 

"Need ye help, Mistress?" 

Andi turned, looking for the owner of the voice, but found no one. 

"Who...who's there?" 

"'tis I, Jane, the milkmaid...on the wall..." 

Andi looked up at a portrait of a rather pretty, fresh faced girl, carrying a milk-yolk around her neck. 

"Need ye help?" 

"HA!" Andi blasted in astonishment. "This place gets weirder by the minute." She looked up again. "You're talking!" 

"Aye." 

Well, she supposed, it wasn't much different from a tv set... 

"Aye...I mean, yes. I'm looking for the portrait of Lady Evelyn..." 

"My Lady Evelyn be over there, four portraits down." 

"Th..thank you." 

The milkmaid curtseyed. 

The fourth portrait down was a beautiful lady in a white flowing gown and a tiara in her gorgeous built-up hair. She peered coquettishly from behind a fan. 

Underneath her portrait was the label 'Lady Evelyn McGraff'. The lady bowed her head, and Andi felt obliged to nod back - feeling very foolish as she did so. 

Opposite the portrait was the green door, as promised. Andi took hold of the silver doorknob and gave it a turn anti-clockwise. The door opened....


	8. Tea Dance

Thank you, thank you to all my reviewers. It really boosts my day to read your comments and to know my story is being read.

TheRealiz - I have actually written out your last review on a post-it and stuck it to the side of my computer - I thought it was great!

Fury's Grace: re your review - Severus in the bath?! Did you HAVE to put that picture in my head before I went to bed? I had a VERY restless night!

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**Chapter Eight**

**TEA DANCE**

She had wondered what could be in the room that Dumbledore had said might interest her but she hadn't come up with any answers. 

What she saw was a total surprise. 

Before her was a large hall with a very high ceiling from which hung two enormous chandeliers, each with two tiers of at least twenty candles. 

The floor was dark varnished floorboards - a welcome contrast to the stone flags which lay everywhere else in the castle. 

Along the bottom of the walls, to a height of about five feet, was dark wood panelling, and above, bare walls painted a delicate shade of pale blue which looked to have been rag-rolled. 

Ahead of her, at the far end of the room, was a tall and wide set of French windows which appeared to open onto a balcony. Through these windows came a shaft of sunlight, a hazy, dust-speckled spotlight that fell on the main focus of the room: 

A Concert Grand piano. 

Andi let go of the door handle and walked, almost dream-like, across the huge room to the piano. 

She folded the tan cover up from the front and her eyes widened. A _Beckstein_. 

How had he known? How could Dumbledore have _possibly_ known? 

Quickly she lifted the lid and touched her fingers to the yellowing ivory keys, picking out an anonymous tune. 

The tone was wonderfully rich and resonant. 

Eagerly, she walked around the piano, pulling off the rest of the cover, and when it lay in a stiff heap on the floor, she opened up the piano and returned to sit at the keys. 

The notes she played echoed in the emptiness of the room and she knew immediately which composer's music to play. 

With a confidence borne of many years practice, she began to play Satie. 

Taking her usual route through Satie's music, she began with _Gymnopedie 1_, moving through to _Gnossienne 1 and 5._

__Her eyes closed, as they so often did when she heard music that particularly moved her. Her fingers found their way with ease, and the sound of Satie's music played in an echoing hall was haunting - just as it should be. 

She always saved her favourite until last... 

She was just five bars in when she happened to open her eyes... 

...and screamed. 

She leapt up from the stool, her hand at her throat, her heart beating a tattoo in her chest. 

Standing along the far wall (between her and the door she noted subconsciously), was a crowd of people. About twenty-strong, men and women in various different costumes, all gazing at her, silently. 

Each and every one of them was transparent. 

One, a man, in frills and a frock-coat, stepped towards her. She backed off until her back came against the wall. 

"Please don't be alarmed," said the man in a very polite and gentle voice. "We were drawn here by the most _beautiful_ sound." 

"This room has not been used for years," said another, stepping forward to join the first. "Please would you continue playing?" 

Andi made a whimpering noise, she was almost crying with fright. 

"Y...y...you're ghosts!" 

"Why, yes we are," agreed the first man, "but we can still appreciate beautiful music." 

"Jeremiah," said a motherly woman in a crinoline, putting a warning hand on the first man's arm. "The young lady is a muggle, she is not used to us." She turned to Andi and smiled gently. "Please, we so seldom hear such music. What was the piece you were playing?" 

"_Je....Je te veux" _stammered Andi, beginning to calm down a little at the woman's soothing voice and the realisation they were not here to hurt her. 

"Please..." The woman gestured to the piano. 

With much hesitation and not taking her eyes off the crowd, Andi sat at the piano and put her fingers to the keys and began to play. 

As the tune warmed up, the ghosts began to pair-up and waltz around the room. Andi's fingers almost tripped in shock, but she carried on, gradually becoming entranced by the gossamer forms gliding over the floor. 

She played the piece twice, and when she stopped, she was smiling. 

"I remember waltzing in Vienna to wonderful music," said a young woman with ringlets high on her head. 

"Do you mean Strauss?" asked Andi. 

The woman gasped and put her hand to the necklace at her throat. 

"Oh, if only you could play..." 

Andi played the first few bars of _The Blue Danube _and seeing the delight on the ghost's face, continued. 

They moved on to Chopin. 

She must have played a dozen tunes while the ghosts danced, when the door opened and a house-elf walked in carrying a tray laden with a large silver tea-service and a plate of pastries. 

"Yes, yes, have a rest, my dear. Take tea." urged the ghosts. 

Andi went to the little side table. 

The cake stand had a variety of cakes and pastries and several of the ghosts were 'oohing' and 'ahhing' over them. Andi picked up a cup and saucer and the silver milk jug and prepared to pour. The two female ghosts standing nearest her, gasped. 

"What?" said Andi in alarm. 

"Non, non, non!" said the one with a very wide dress and high hair, wagging her finger at Andi. "Zis tea cup is _Limoges_! We _never_ pour ze milk first into _Limoges!"_

__Now she was having lessons on etiquette from a ghost? 

"O-kay." She poured the tea into the cup and then poured the milk. 

She wandered over to the French windows, taking her tea with her, and looked out over the lawn and the lake, which was sparkling in the sunlight. She shivered as a rather austere-looking ghost came up to her, almost fading from view as he stepped towards the light. 

He wore a wig with a little ponytail at the back. His face was long and he wore pince-nez on his nose. 

"Thank you for playing most _beautifully,_ darling-heart. It has been a _most_ revitalising afternoon, but I wonder...what music do the young people of today enjoy?" 

"Nothing like the music I've been playing," laughed Andi, now feeling totally at ease surrounded by ghosts. 

The man smiled, expectantly. 

Andi considered. She didn't think they were ready for Eminem. She had worked a great deal in the amateur operatic circuit, playing in the orchestra. Perhaps she could play them some show-tunes. 

She eased them in gently with some Gilbert and Sullivan then working her way through songs from _'West Side Story', 'My Fair Lady' _and _'Guys and Dolls'_. 

The biggest surprise came though when, just as a joke, she began playing tunes from _'Grease'._ They were so taken with _'Summer Nights'_ that she played it four times as they divided into male/female and each group tried to learn as many words as Andi could remember. 

_This_ was _surreal_!. 

A rather beautiful young woman quickly got the hang of _Hopelessly Devoted To You_ and sung it so beautifully, some of the women wiped away ghostly tears. 

"Now we really must have another dance..." said a ghost who looked like a General, rubbing his hands together. 

"OK," said Andi and, feeling totally flippant by now, laughed, "I'll teach you the _'Time Warp_'. I think that's appropriate." 

They were having so much fun as they did the _'Time Warp'_ again and again and there was so much noise with the piano hammering out the tune and the singing and laughing, no one noticed the door open. 

Then two of the women ghosts gave little screams. The party scattered to the sides of the room and Andi's fingers ground to a halt. 

"Oh, Professor," said Andi, disappointed to see her new friends dissolving one-by-one through the walls. "We didn't see you standing there." 

Could there be a _bigger_ party-pooper? 

"It is eight o'clock," he said, his face changing back to the usual stern expression after a brief shadow of astonishment. 

"_Really?!" _She turned in genuine surprise to look at the sky through the window. "I had no idea." 

He merely stood at the open door and gestured they should leave. 

Why did she suddenly feel like a schoolgirl who'd been caught smoking? 

Refusing to let him faze her, she bounced out of the room, smiling broadly. 

She'd had a great afternoon. 

NB: The songs from 'Grease' mentioned above are not in the original stage version of the show. However - just in case anyone wanted to pull me up about it - there is now a new version of the show that incorporates the songs from the film.


	9. Embarrassment

Thanks again for all your reviews. I really enjoy reading them. lol.

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**Chapter Nine**

**EMBARRASSMENT**

"Do I have time to change?" 

They were making their way down to the dungeons at a brisk pace. 

"No. The house-elves have all ready served the food." 

They walked on. 

"How did you know where to find me?" 

"I have my methods, Miss Carver." 

When they reached his room, he opened the door and allowed her to enter first. She walked in - and froze. 

The memory of her earlier embarrassment rose up to colour her cheeks as she stared at the Sea Bass beautifully and prominently displayed on the table. 

Fish! 

It took a few moments before her anger could be translated into words, but then she turned on him. 

"You really are the most _pathetic_ dickhead," she spat. "Yes, I understood your little quip about my stars and the fish earlier, Professor. Just because you got a good view of my arse yesterday, you're behaving like an adolescent schoolboy who can't put the joke down... 

"...I was sick. I was vulnerable. I was _unconscious_ for God's sake! Some Good Samaritan you turned out to be! Well, I hope you enjoyed the show; and now if you don't mind, I think I'd rather eat in my room - alone." 

She swept past him and strode along the corridor. 

"Miss Carver..." 

"Piss off!" 

"Miss Carver - your room is in the other direction." 

She stopped dead. 

Fuck! 

Mustering as much dignity as possible, she turned and began walking back the other way. 

Snape was standing in the doorway, watching her. His arms were folded, his mouth smirking. 

"And you may wish to know..." he said as she drew level with him. "...it was the house-elves' decision to serve Sea Bass and not mine." 

She stopped again. 

"Oh." She turned to look at him, abashed. "Sorry." 

"Hardly an adequate response considering the accusations and abuse thrown at me, but I shall live. Shall we..?" He gestured to the room. 

He's got some nerve, she thought as she walked meekly into the room. The crap I've had to put up with from him and he's complaining about my little outburst. 

But she _was_ hungry and the Sea Bass _did_ look delicious. 

Once again, the dinner began in silence and, tonight, that suited her fine. Her body was tight with embarrassment, for jumping to conclusions and for what she now knew he'd seen yesterday. 

"I had no idea you played the piano, Miss Carver." 

She jumped; his voice cutting through the silence. 

She had to clear her throat before she spoke. 

"There's no reason why you should, since you don't indulge in small talk." 

"I had not credited you with talents of any worth." 

She blinked. Could he actually _hear_ himself? 

"Well, thank you Professor," she said, tartly. "for what I _think _was an attempt at a compliment..." 

She continued eating. She took a slug of wine. 

"...and while we're dishing out compliments...I was impressed by that trick you did earlier with my door. It must be quite handy to be able to make things appear and disappear." She shot him a dagger look. "I wish I could do it sometimes." 

"I am afraid you have to be born with wizard-blood, Miss Carver, and I detect no magic in you." 

"Well, you _do _have wizard-blood, Professor, but I can assure you, I find nothing _magical_ about you, either." 

She chewed her food. 

What the hell was that? 

Why had she said that? 

"...and so that I don't bother you tomorrow," she continued. "I shall tell you now that I plan to go for a walk tomorrow morning and then practice my playing in the piano room in the afternoon." 

"Thank you." 

Another silence. 

"Have you...have you heard from Albus Dumbledore, by any chance?" she asked, quietly. 

"We have communicated, yes." 

"Did he give any idea when I might be going home?" 

"Only that it cannot be before the full moon." 

She looked at him, blankly. 

"The full moon is in three days time," he added. 

"I'm stuck here for another three days!" she cried. 

"At least," he said, heavily. 

She leaned back in her chair and put her knife and fork together. Another three days?! At least?! 

"I think I need to get some fresh air," she said, rising from her chair. 

Snape rose too, and held the door open for her. 

"Miss Carver..." 

She was half way down the hall. She turned to look at him. 

"...do not stray too far. Things tend to look different in the twilight and it is easy to lose one's way. I have no wish to form a search party." 

She wandered across the lawn towards her willow - towards the lake. The night air was still and hot; the sky a deep cornflower blue. 

Bats swished overhead. 

She walked by the lake, chewing absently on a piece of grass. 

Three more days?! 

Her mind reeled with all the reasons why she didn't want to stay here at all. 

She walked heavily along the side of the lake until a beautiful perfume reached her nose. 

She looked down. Her feet had crushed a small white, sparkling flower, and when she looked, there were hundreds of them growing around this section of the lake, all twinkling in the moonlight. 

She bent down, picked up the one she'd crushed, and sniffed. 

The scent was heady and heavy, but beautiful, like a powerful honeysuckle or mimosa. The perfume was so beautiful she couldn't help a delicious sigh escape her. She picked a little posy of them, and made her way back to the castle. 

Back in her room, she arranged the flowers in her tooth glass and left them on the bedside table as she slept.


	10. The Crone

Thanks for your reviews as ever. My other story 'Tonight's the Night' has reached the steamy bit, if you're interested(!)

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**CHAPTER TEN**

******THE CRONE**

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Andi woke the following morning feeling fantastic. 

She tried to remember what she'd been dreaming, but the more she chased the memory, the further away it went. It must have been good - the bed covers were wrecked. 

She felt wide awake and eager to get to work on the Concerto. 

She would forego the morning walk, she decided. She'd go straight up to the first floor and throw open the French windows instead. 

She was sad to see the sparkling white flowers hadn't survived the night; they lay drooped over the side of the glass, their sparkle gone. 

Clutching her manuscript, she hurried up to the Entrance Hall and then up the armadillo staircase. She had Dumbledore's map with her. She always _thought_ she could remember directions, but never did. 

As she was half way up the staircase, there was a terrific moan and the steps below her feet began to shudder. She clutched the handrail. 

This couldn't be good... 

Eyes darting everywhere, she gave a cry as she realised the staircase was moving, swinging around like a very slow fairground ride. The top swung across the stairwell and round to the other side, joining up with the landing on the right. 

She stood stock still. 

She could go up, she could go down; but she was damned if she was going back down stairs to ask for Snape's help. 

Slowly, shakily, she made her way to the top and looked across to where she was meant to be. Now she didn't have a map. How was she supposed to find the room? 

She decided the best way was to walk in a straight line and turn left somewhere, but it seemed to bring her out somewhere totally different. 

Completely lost now, she just wandered in the hope of stumbling across something familiar. 

"Ah, child, you are lost." 

Andi jumped out of her skin at the hard, rasping voice. She looked around and saw an oil painting of a very old woman seated at a round table. The table was covered in a silver cloth with a gold fringe. It stood out as a beautiful eye-catching object in a painting that was otherwise dark and drab. Laid out on top of the cloth was, what looked like playing cards. 

"Yes...I _am_ lost. I need to get to..." 

"Tarry a while. I am the Crone...the Wise Woman. Come, hold your hand to my eyes I shall tell you what I see." 

"Oh, I don't think..." 

"I think you may." 

There was something in the old woman's tone that made Andi stop and look. 

"O-Kay." She held her hand up as directed. 

"Ah!" exclaimed the woman almost immediately. "A _female_ dynasty. You bare the family name of your mother and her mother before her." 

Andi gulped. 

"Yes I do. Carver was my grandmother's name." 

"They were free spirits. I see no wedding ring on either." 

"No," she said, quietly. 

"You are ashamed of your mother, I see." 

Andi swallowed. She had no hang-ups that her parents had not been married, but being the result of a drunken quickie behind the local cinema with a stranger had never sat easy with her. 

"She abandoned me," replied Andi. 

"And so you replace her with your music. Who is Josephine?" 

"My grandmother." 

"You loved her dearly." 

"Yes," Andi whispered. 

"And yet she, too, bore your mother out of wedlock. But I detect no shame of her..." 

"That was different. My grandmother was in love. My mother didn't even know my father's name." 

"Your mother was conceived here." 

"Yes. In Scotland. My grandmother was on holiday." 

The Crone's eyes twinkled as she took her eyes from Andi's face to her palm again. 

"Who is Alice?" 

"I don't know anyone called Alice." 

"Alice is very important. She brings a question you want answered. In the fullness of the moon she carries _Ansuz _the messenger rune and your question will be answered. She brings you clarity. She will bring a sign that you are to trust your intuition. You must expect the unexpected, child." 

_Expect the unexpected? In this place? Is she kidding? I've all ready given a Tea Dance for ghosts and had a ride on a moving staircase..._

"One last thing." If a two-dimensional person could lean closer, the Crone did. "I detect something about you, child. Something building up inside...why am I seeing flowers?" 

"I don't know. I picked some last night," she offered. "They were dead this morning, though." 

The Crone studied her eagerly. 

"What kind of flowers?" 

"Tiny white ones. They sparkled and had a strong perfume." 

"_Nox Adamus._ Night Diamond. A powerful ingredient in many potions. You brought them to your chambers?" 

"Yes. Shouldn't I have?" Andi felt anxious. She had just thought they were pretty, that's all. 

"That depends on many things within the moon's cycle." The old lady yawned a great cavernous yawn and smacked her lips. "That is all I can tell you, I am weary. I see no more. Watch for the sign and expect the unexpected, child." 

And she fell asleep. 

Andi stood there, astounded. How could she fall asleep now? Andi had so many questions... 

She waited in front of the painting, wondering, hoping the Crone would wake up, but she didn't. She slumbered peacefully. 

Slowly Andi wandered along the corridor, her mind buzzing with all the things the Crone had said. 

She didn't know anyone called Alice. How could Alice be important? How could she bring an answer to a question Andi hadn't even asked? And what was up with Night Diamond for goodness sake? All she'd done was pick some. 

She then remembered she was lost. 

A familiar feeling of panic began to swirl around in her stomach; a feeling she always got when she became lost. 

She walked along corridor after corridor. Nothing looked familiar. Occasionally she stopped to ask someone in a portrait whether they knew the music room, but no... 

Where the hell was she? 

The panic grew. She began running down the corridors, looking left and right as she came to corridors leading off. She turned corners, hoping there would be a staircase or _something_ to indicate the way, but the only staircase she saw went up. 

She began to perspire. 

Suppose she was lost all day, perhaps all night. Suppose not all the ghosts in the castle were nice like the ones yesterday? Hadn't Snape mentioned a poltergeist yesterday? Would she have to sleep in the corridor? 

Her mind was crowded with panic...and Night Diamond and the Crone and expecting the unexpected... 

She turned a corner and screamed as she ran full pelt into Snape. 

"Oh! Oh! Thank God!" She was so relieved she actually made as if to hug him. He stepped back out of her reach and she pulled her arms back just as quickly. "I'm lost. I haven't got a bloody clue where I am..." 

"I assumed as much. This way..." 

She followed him down yet more corridors, some she vaguely recognised as ones she'd all ready been down, and then she saw the painting of the milkmaid and knew she was almost there. 

They stopped outside the green door. She opened it and looked in with relief. 

She turned to him. 

"Thank you," she said, sincerely. "The staircase moved...I've had a really weird morning and I..." but she saw the look on his face. "I'm sorry. I won't hold you up any longer." 

"I shall return at six o'clock to collect you. Otherwise, left to your own devices, I fear we shall be dining at midnight." He gave a curt nod of dismissal, and left.


	11. Night Diamond

Thank you, loyal readers, for your reviews. Yes, I'm afraid the Crone was a bit of a manipulation of the story, but I had to find some way of letting you know a bit more about Andi and a prediction for the future. lol as always.

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**NIGHT DIAMOND**

Andi played for hours, taking a break for the lunch brought to the room by a house-elf. She was so engrossed in the music, that it seemed only moments later she was being disturbed by another delivery of refreshments - tea.

She played in sections, going over and over the same Movement until she was comfortable with what she was hearing, before moving on.

Breaking off with a flourish at the very end of the last section, she jumped up to get some fresh air from the French windows which she had opened earlier.

The lake still glistened in the sun. This really was a very beautiful place. Last night the lake had looked so romantic in the moonlight. She wondered how many students had strolled hand in hand along the banks. How many first loves had been sparked by this fairy tale setting?

With a deep, sweet sigh, Andi returned to the piano. She would play the complete Concerto through once and then call it a day. She was dying for the loo.

Sitting back at the piano, gathering herself with a deep breath, she played the opening chords. Soon the orchestra in her head joined her and together, they made the most glorious sound.

Andi felt the emotion of the music well up inside her as she sat with her eyes closed, her fingers tripping over the keys like well-drilled, but pliable soldiers. Losing herself completely, feeling a passion for the music that she'd never appreciated before, she was surprised when the end of the piece came into view. Time had existed only on the music stave.

With a final flourish, her hands hovered high above the keys and she couldn't help a little "mmmmmmm" of accomplishment escape into the now silent room.

Coming down slowly from the state of high concentration, she opened her eyes just as the door to the room opened and Snape entered to take her back to her room.

He couldn't have timed it better had he been standing outside the door listening.

As she bathed and changed for dinner, her mood became light, bubbly, twinkly - just like the Night Diamond which seemed to have revived and now sat sparkling on her bedside table.

She padded around her room naked after her bath, singing to herself,

_"Like a flower_

_Waiting to bloom..."_

She glanced at herself in the mirror on the wardrobe. Thank goodness she'd waxed before coming on holiday, or she would be looking like a gorilla by now.

"_Like a light bulb_

_In a darkened room..."_

She took out a green silk dress from the wardrobe along with an ivory cotton one and held each to her, trying to decide which to wear.

"_I'm just sitting here_

_Waiting for you..."_

The green was pretty, but the cotton was beautiful, showed off her tan quite nicely and was actually sexier than the green.

"_To come on home..."_

Yes, it had to be the ivory cotton. Let's hope she didn't manage to drip red wine down it.

_"And turn me on."_

The dress was a simple shift with double spaghetti straps that ran over her shoulder and crossed over her bare back.

_"Mmmm mmmm mmmmm..."_

And surprisingly, it wasn't see-through, so it didn't matter she couldn't wear a bra with it.

_"Mmmmmm mmmmm mmmm..."_

That was the one good thing about her breasts - not so big she needed a bra, but not so small that she was flat-chested without one.

"Mmmmm mmmmm mmmm..."

And she could wear her G-string.

"_After all, you're the one_

_Who turns me off..."_

Yeah, that looked good. Now she'd just got to brush her hair and she'd be ready.

_"You're the only one_

_Who can turn me back on..."_

She'd sung and danced her way through two more songs by the time she let herself out of her room. She was feeling very buoyant, filled with joie-de-vivre. Tonight would _not_ be a stilted conversation night, oh no. Tonight she would get round him, get him talking.

She felt so good, she did her Britney dance down the corridor,

_"Show me _

_How you want it to be._

_Tell me, baby_

_'Cause I need to_

_Know now_

_Oh, because..."_

She pulled herself together just before she knocked on the door.

She entered the room with a confidence she hadn't felt for the entire time at Hogwarts. She guessed it must be the pleasure of having played the Concerto to a standard that pleased her. Sure, she'd made plenty of mistakes, but her fingers had played with such expression and emotion that she'd actually felt it reverberating through her entire body. She felt she'd accomplished something today.

They begun the meal in silence again, but Andi was much to sparky to allow it to continue long. She wasn't sure what had got into her tonight. She was actually smiling at Snape - an almost flirtatious air affecting her movements and speech.

"Professor, what do you know about Night Diamond?"

She was delighted to see a look of puzzlement cross his face, rather than irritation.

"Why would you wish to know about Night Diamond, Miss Carver?"

"Because I picked some last night and put them in water on my bedside table. This morning they were dead. Tonight when I returned to my room, they were alive again."

"It is a nocturnal plant. In the daytime it appears dead. Its oils are used in many potions."

She had her leg crossed over the other, towards him. As she listened, her foot slid out of her shoe so that only the tip was balancing on her toes. Her foot must be _so _close to his leg.

"I myself gather it for various truth potions, memory enhancement potions. Its uses rather depend on the time it is harvested." He looked at her from the corner of his eye. "You...picked some last night?"

"Yes." Her mind went to the old Crone who had asked a question in exactly the same tone. Andi's eyelashes actually fluttered as she asked, in a breathy tone, "Was that wrong?"

"It rather depends, Miss Carver."

"Depends on what?" she smiled.

"I feel sure you would not want me to continue."

She placed her chin in her hand and leaned towards him, as though hanging on his every word. "No, go on - depends on what?"

"The perfume of the Night Diamond is revered amongst wise-women as a cure - or aid - to various female conditions..."

Mmmmm. The cotton of her dress had rubbed against her breast in a rather enticing way as she reached for her wine glass. It had sent a lovely sensation down through her body.

She wriggled slightly in her seat.

"Such as menstrual problems, childbirth and confinement of nursing mothers. However..."

She looked at him as she took another sip of wine. _He's really not so bad, _she thought._ Obviously _very_ intelligent. I wonder what he looks like without his shirt?_

'...depending on...certain timings... '

S_trong shoulders_; _subtly muscular arms; just the right amount of hair on his chest..._

"...it can also be..."

M_mmmmm. And I bet he knows a few magical bedtime tricks..._

'...a rather potent...'

_If I stretched my foot just a little bit more, I could play with his leg..._

"...female aphrodisiac."

Andi's wine almost erupted from her mouth. In a valiant attempt to keep it in, she swallowed, sending her throat into spasm and the wine up her nose.

Choking and spluttering, wondering if she was ever going to breathe properly again, wishing he would pat her on the back or something, she held her napkin to her mouth while she recovered. She looked up at him through streaming eyes.

"Wh...what sort of timings? Her heart was still hammering from the choking fit, but she could feel an extra tinge of panic rise up. She noticed that gleam of superior amusement in his eyes again. He was enjoying her distress.

"When picked before the first full moon following the summer solstice which, you will remember is _this_ full moon. However, to ease your very _obvious_ anxiety, Miss Carver, much depends on the mentality of the woman in question and, more importantly, where she is in her own...cycle. It is twenty-seven to one you will be unaffected."

She felt a hot flush infuse her face, not because of the subject but, taking on board her movements and thoughts during dinner, the sudden fear that she might just have drawn the short straw.

"What...is the one day, Professor?" she said, not looking at him.

"The fourteenth."

Frantically, she tried to remember - when the hell was her last period, anyway? Trying not to make it obvious, she began to count back.

She was so busy trying to work out what day she had been on yesterday, she was totally unaware that Snape was still speaking.

"I'm sorry, Professor, what were you saying?" She pulled herself up to concentrate on his words.

"That was an interesting piece of music you were playing earlier, Miss Carver."

"Oh, I didn't know you could hear it. I'm sorry if it disturbed you, Professor."

He gave her a sharp look.

Now what was that for? She'd been apologising.

"I'm just so relieved to have the chance to practise. I'm performing it in a concert at the end of August and I'm quite nervous. Technically, it's a very demanding piece and I've never even _tried_ it with an orchestra before. It's a bit of a cliché really, playing Rachmaninov in a concert of romantic music, but it _is _a lovely piece."

He lifted his wine glass to his lips and casually looked away, but Andi thought she had seen another flicker in his eye and it made her senses fizz.

Could it be the cold, unemotional Professor had actually _liked_ what he'd heard?

The suspicion that something had actually got through to Snape was no help in squashing the lascivious urges that had returned after a brief lapse during the coughing fit. She was feeling very uncomfortable, very hot, very bothered. Sexy thoughts kept popping into her brain, and the worst of it was - they all involved Snape.

This just wasn't fair! It hadn't been her fourteenth day yesterday. She'd worked out it was her eleventh. Why was the Night Diamond affecting her like this?

Oh, but she couldn't help noticing how the red wine had stained his lips slightly, and it excited her. Or how he held his knife and fork - making her notice those long fingers and wondering what they could do; where they could travel.

She wriggled in her seat again.

_Oh concentrate on your dinner, woman!_

Only two more mouthfuls of food and she could respectfully leave the table and get out of here. She could feel the heat rising up through her body. She needed to escape.

The last piece of food was placed with great deliberation into her mouth, the fork sliding out slowly, the food crushed and eaten with such sensual pleasure...

"_OH!"_

She leapt to her feet with a shocked squeal as a particularly vivid thought of going down on him, zigzagged through her mind.

He jumped and looked up at her.

"Um...I think...I should go for a walk..." she spluttered, before he could say anything. She dare not look at him. "I need to...I just need to..."

She rushed from the room, hoping the dampness she'd felt between her legs hadn't gone through her dress.

Not even bothering to close the door, she scurried up the staircase, through the Entrance Hall and out into the heat of the night...


	12. Are You Watching Me?

Thanks for your reviews as usual. This story is not getting as many reviews as my other one, so please, please keep R&R-ing! Yes, I really enjoyed writing that last chapter. I'm glad you enjoyed reading it. Now this next chapter has been looming for a while, and I'm a little worried about posting it, but trust me, it's kind of essential to the story - hopefully you'll begin to see why by the end of the chapter. Just remember, nice girls do too...

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**Chapter Twelve**

******ARE YOU WATCHING ME?**

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****Striding, stumbling, half-running, Andi went directly to her willow tree by the lake, her hands raking through her hair as though to pluck from her mind the porn movie that played there. 

She reached the tree and hugged the trunk, her cheek feeling the coolness of the bark, her breasts heaving as her breath came out in gasps. 

She had thought the night air might help to cool her, calm the swirling mass of sexual cravings that had invaded her body, but the air was heavy with heat. Sweat trickled down her neck, her thighs, between her breasts. 

Had he known what was happening to her? Had he been able to see in her face the thoughts that were going through her head? He seemed to know things - as if he could read her mind. Oh, God, _please _don't let him have read it tonight... 

It was his eyes. Those black glittering eyes that seemed to bore into her, to look into her thoughts until nothing was her own secret anymore. 

How, for instance had he known she was in the music room yesterday afternoon? Or this morning when he had bumped into her when she'd been lost? It was if he had some kind of tracking device on her, or perhaps those eyes could see her, wherever she was. 

His wine-stained lips came back into her mind again...oh, and she wanted to kiss them so badly.... 

She turned and fell back against the tree with an exasperated cry. She needed to cool off... 

Her eyes looked out at the lake. It was dark and still, the moonlight reflecting along the middle. It looked cool and inviting. Perhaps if she took a quick dip, it might help. 

She removed a shoe and as she did, those black, black eyes forced themselves back into her brain. 

Did he know where she was _all_ the time? 

Did he _watch _her all the time? 

She removed the other shoe. 

Was he watching her now? 

Her hand moved to the left strap of her dress. 

If he _was _watching her now, how come she didn't feel outraged like she knew she ought? 

She wriggled her shoulder to pass the strap over and then removed her arm through the loop. 

How come the thought instead gave her butterflies in her stomach and a tingling between her legs as though she might find the idea...exciting? 

Her hand moved to the right strap and did the same thing. She held the material to her body for a moment before lowering it slowly, deliberately - allowing her hands to linger over her breasts as they passed. 

_Oh Professor, are you watching now?_

__Enticingly, she stroked her hands around her hips, across her bottom to the three little buttons at the back of the waist. She plucked them undone one by one and then, instead of letting the dress fall as it wanted to, she crossed her arms around the front, picked up the sides and drew the dress up and over her head. 

She took the dress high - to the full length of her arms, stretching and displaying her body to its full extent. 

_Are you watching, Professor?_

She dropped the dress and ran her hands through her hair. She was completely hot with the thought that some how he could see what she was doing. 

Running her hands down her neck, her throat, she caressed her breasts, the hard nipples practically forcing themselves between her fingers to be rubbed and played with. 

She gasped. 

_Oh, please, please be watching._

Her hands continued down to the catch on her G-string. She clicked the left one open but didn't let it fall until the right had also been undone. 

The pulse between her legs was beating hard and as her fingers moved down the v of her belly and began travelling the narrow line of pubes, she imagined she could feel his eyes following in their path and it caused a surge of excitement through her body. 

_I want you to be watching. I want you to be turned on by what you see. I want your fingers to be finding your own pulse as you watch_. 

The idea that she might be exerting some kind of power over him made her sizzle. The heat infused her body as she allowed her fingers to touch, stroke and enter her wetness. 

She pushed back against the tree and pictured his eyes travelling over her body, watching her fingers working; watching as she squirmed and sighed against the bark; watching her breasts heaving as her climax approached. The image of his voyeuristic attention foremost in her mind as she shuddered and cried out to the sky as she came. 

Panting, gasping, she kept her eyes closed as she brought her arms around her body and hugged herself. 

A little voice at the back of her head was telling her oh, how she was going to regret this in the morning. She'd been embarrassed about him seeing her arse for goodness sake, now _this_! 

But right now, she didn't care. She'd finally got release. She could all ready feel her body relaxing, the tension ebbing away, the effect of the Night Diamond diminishing. 

Walking towards the lake she plunged in, shrieking at the sudden change of temperature. 

She swam a few strokes, flipped over a couple of times and then the cold got too much for her and she returned to the bank. 

She threw the cotton dress over her, picked up her G-string and shoes and began walking back to the castle. As she walked, she wondered on the chances that he _had _been watching; that he _had _seen everything. Could it be possible for someone to do that? Hadn't she seen him make a doorway materialise on a wall yesterday? Anything could be possible in this crazy place. 

When she got back to her room, she spotted the Night Diamond still sitting in pretty innocence on her bedside table. An impish grin appeared on her face and she suddenly felt very curious to know if he _had _been watching. 

The posy of Night Diamond in her hand, she knocked on his door...and knocked again when there was no answer. 

"Professor, it's me. Could I speak with you a moment....? 

"Professor...?" 

"It is very late, Miss Carver," he snapped from behind the door. 

"Barely eleven, Professor. But anyway, I just wanted to apologise for my very quick exit from dinner this evening." 

"Apology accepted. However, I am becoming accustomed to your eccentric behaviour, Miss Carver and I defy the brightest medical mind to give a rational explanation to anything you say or do. Good night." 

"Oh, but Professor - I've brought you a little peace-offering..." 

Slowly, reluctantly, the door opened. 

For the first time since her arrival at Hogwarts, he looked dishevelled. His shirt was untucked from his trousers, the cuffs were unfastened and hung loose around his hands and three buttons on the main body were undone, displaying a deep portion of his throat and beginnings of chest-hair. 

Andi caught her breath. He looked as though he'd dressed in a hurry. It made him look...vulnerable and, even though she knew the effects of the Night Diamond had worn off, she thought he looked...sexy. 

They stared at each other for a few seconds and she watched his Adam's apple ripple as he swallowed and said, 

"Miss Carver..." 

"Oh," she shook herself, a blush rising to her cheeks as she realised she'd been gawping. She held out the posy to him. "I brought you my Night Diamond. My danger-day is very near and I didn't want to take any chances..." 

"_Near_?" He frowned as his eyes glanced away. 

"Yes," she watched his face, wondering why he looked so puzzled. She then remembered why she had knocked on his door, and gave a naughty smile. "I remember you saying you use it so I thought you might like these, in case you had..._exhausted your supply_..." 

He looked at her with no hint that he understood her _double-entendre._

"Thank you, Miss Carver, but you really should not have troubled yourself." 

"Oh, it was no trouble...it was my _pleasure_."__

She held out the posy to him again, letting the fingers he might have watched earlier, linger a little longer than necessary, so that they made brief contact with his. 

She smiled at him. 

"Miss Carver, I feel it my duty to point out that _you_ are very wet and your _dress_, transparent." 

She looked down at the ivory cotton clinging to every inch of her body, her nipples very clearly and prominently on display through the cloth; the cotton dimpling at her tummy button; the dark shadow of pubic hair unmistakable.__

"Oh, so it is! I didn't realise. I just got so _wet _this evening. Well, I'd better get off to bed then, and not disturb you any more." 

"Thank you, Miss Carver." 

She took one more look at his untidy dress and noticed his black trousers were not hanging _quite _so well as they normally did. 

"You're _very _welcome, Professor." 

She turned and walked back to her own room, grinning - a small "wow!" shaping her lips as she went.__


	13. Stoned Again

Thanks for your reviews. Phew, thank goodness you were all OK about that scene. I was a bit worried, I have to say.

Re this next chapter, I have to say that, alcohol aside, I have never taken recreational drugs in my life, so I have had to rely on a little research and a LOT of imagination for this scene. Apologies to anyone who knows better...!!! And I wish, I wish I had sufficient word power to translate onto the page how I picture Snape in this scene. I've done my best but...

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**STONED AGAIN**

As she awoke, the memories of the previous night gradually filtered into her brain and she began to evaluate the situation. 

First was the memory of what she'd done on the banks of the lake, but that was OK. She was _not _responsible for that. She had been under the influence of the Night Diamond and could hardly be held accountable. It was also an absurd idea that he'd been watching. Of course he hadn't - relax. 

Then came the memory of knocking on his door and displaying her body through a wet dress. 

_That _she could definitely have done without. Why the _hell _did she do these things? How could she have acted so blasé about it when he'd pointed it out? 

Before she could go any further with that embarrassment, she remembered how he'd looked when he'd opened his door. His shirt...undone and...everything. What a total surprise that had been. 

It was that memory which seemed to dominate all others and occupy her thoughts for the next ten minutes or so, until she looked at her watch. 

It was almost seven. Breakfast was sitting on the little side table and, wouldn't it be nice to eat outdoors this morning? 

She gathered up the croissant and the fruit into the little cloth that sat on the tray, poured the orange juice into her water bottle and then, throwing on a cotton dress, left her room. 

She realised she'd slowed down as she got to his door. Was he having breakfast right now, sitting at the refectory table? Or was he still asleep in bed..? 

Oh, for goodness sake! 

She hurried up to the Entrance Hall and out through the doors into the morning air. 

It was so silent outside and everything smelled fresh and dewy. 

The temperature was all ready warm, but the grass was cool under her bare feet as she took a straight walk in a different direction, towards the forest. 

The freedom of the open air after the stuffiness of the castle was wonderful. She began to run, loving the air rushing over her, through her dress, cooling her body, blowing her hair behind her. 

The forest was dark, but she had no intention of going inside; she knew she'd never find her way out if she did. She wanted to walk along the edge, just to have a different view for a change. 

Shards of sunlight lasered in between the trees, casting spotlights on the interior floor - it was breathtaking in its beauty. 

She found a nice clear spot and sat, opening her little breakfast package and began to eat. She was just inside the forest, but could still see the castle entrance. She was OK. She wouldn't get lost. 

The fresh fruit was good. Grapes, kiwi, strawberries and mango - all cold and juicy. It was a very pleasant way to eat breakfast, that is until something that looked like a giant wasp began buzzing around her head, obviously attracted by the sweet juice. Andi waved it away once, twice, but it was persistent. On the third approach, she caught it a glancing blow and realised her mistake in an instant. 

The wasp gave an almighty, angry squeal and went ballistic, hovering angrily before making its dive at her. 

She tried to turn away, but the wasp had caught her on the base of her neck, towards her right shoulder. A burning pain immediately burst in her neck and she felt the poison flowing through her veins as rapidly as anaesthetic. 

The wasp had gone, but the pain in her neck grew steadily worse and the effect of the poison was all ready similar to having drunk a great deal of strong wine. 

She realised she was in trouble. 

Dropping the fruit, leaving everything behind, she staggered to the edge of the forest. Before she got out of the shade, however, she stopped in amazement. 

There were two trees at the entrance of the forest and they were making a noise. Not the normal rustle of leaves, but....the trees were _arguing!_

_"_...obviously milk goes in first..." 

"Oh, my dear, that is SO uncouth. You put the _tea_ in first..." 

"Who are you calling 'uncouth'? I'll have you know we drink from bone china..." 

"Darling, you must always drink from _Limoges. _You are SO common...just like your mother..." 

"Don't you bring my mother into this...." 

Andi backed out of the forest, staring at the trees in shock...oh, something was wrong - really, really, wrong. 

Turning towards the castle, which now had pink glitter icing over the top, she saw the grass before her had turned into a green lake, with gentle waves rippling across it. 

But she had to get back to the castle, and quickly. A corner of her mind remaining to recognise the wasp, or whatever it had been, had injected some kind of poison that was affecting her brain, but that corner was rapidly being filled by the visions before her eyes. 

She realised she would have to swim for it. 

Tentatively she put a foot in the water-grass. Amazingly it held her weight. She stepped forward. 

HA! She was walking on the water. 

She walked quicker and quicker, her feet sloshing through the water-grass while the green waves lapped around her ankles. Sheer euphoria filled her every fibre - she was _walking on water!_ She was just like Jesus_!_ This was SO fantastic! She had to tell someone, quickly. 

Speeding forward, feeling happier than she'd ever felt in her life, she yelled at the top of her voice, 

"SNAPE! HEY, SNAPE! COME OUT, COME OUT, WHEREVER YOU ARE!" 

The poison had established itself. Her mind was completely possessed by the drug. 

As she neared the castle, her cry changed to a ringing, singing voice and she began dancing through the water. 

"Snapey! Snapey! Come out to play! The moon is bright and light as day. Come see what Andi can do today! Hahahahaha! Snape-erini-fettuccine..!" 

Jesus forgotten, she was now Katharine Hepburn in _The Philadelphia Story_: 

"_Mah feet are made of clay; made of clay. Arn't the geraniums lo-vely, Professor. Oh, C.K. Dexter-HAY-ven..!_" 

She turned her face to the sky which was now scarlet and alive with dolphins jumping over shooting stars. Arms stretched to their limit, she was trying to catch them when a sound reached her ears...drawing her attention away from the sky... 

...a familiar sound...a gliss...music..! And a voice... 

_"...what will they say_

_Monday at school...?"_

...she knew that! It was from '_Grease' _and it was the introduction to '_Sandy'._

The band seemed to be behind her. Eagerly, she turned. There was a figure, dressed in black, walking sideways down the steps of the castle in time to the music. 

John Travolta! 

No! 

It was Snape - and he was _singing!_

_"Sandy, can't you see_

_I'm in misery...."_

He sashayed towards her, singing the song. 

She squealed as she jumped up and down, clapping her hands in delight. 

He got closer, 

"_...love has flown, all alone..."_

As he reached her, she put her arms out, grabbed his hands and began dancing with him. 

"_...Oh, Andi, Ba-e-by someday_

_When High-yi School is done..."_

He had a _great_ voice! They were dancing brilliantly and he was singing about _her!_

The music faded as they reached the steps of the castle. 

She stepped up the first step, and then she... 

...stepped up the first step, then she... 

...stepped up the first step. 

"I can't get up the step!" she laughed. She seemed to be replaying the same scene over and over... 

...they were running down a corridor, hand-in-hand; there was a big secret. She wasn't telling. 

How did she get on the sofa? He was sitting next to her, touching her shoulder. Why was he doing that? 

"OW!" She screamed as he touched the sting. "What the fuck..?" She smacked him, catching him a blow on the ear. It exploded in a mass of orange gunge. 

She screamed again. 

"OH! OH! Your poor_ brain..!_ I didn't mean to...I'll help you put it back..." She began pawing at his shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

She stopped, looked directly into his face and then threw her arms around him, holding him tight. "Oh, please...don't die...I need you...please...help me!"


	14. Tiger! Tiger! Burning Bright

Thanks for all your reviews - you all write such nice things and I really do appreciate every single one.

The title of this next chapter is taken from the poem of the same title by William Blake. Look it up on the net if you're curious, it's a really great poem.

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

**TIGER! TIGER! BURNING BRIGHT**

The room was in darkness apart from two torches glowing gently, high on the wall opposite the bed. They cast long, flickering shadows across the ceiling, leaving the lower half of the room unlit. She noticed the door to the room was wide open - beyond was darkness.

She could hear buzzing. A low-pitched buzzing rather like a bumblebee trapped in a window. It took her a while to realise the buzzing was inside her own head. She groaned and put her hand to her scalp. She could remember being attacked by the fly. After that, a horrible carnival of colours and frightening patches of memory that wouldn't let go, but played over and over and never making sense.

There was a movement across the room and when she looked, a figure had appeared in the doorway. She moved her head to try to get a better look and the movement alerted the person to her wakefulness. He approached the bed.

"Hi," she whispered, surprising herself. She had uttered the word breathlessly, almost like a person would greet a lover the first morning of waking together.

"Miss Carver."

He moved closer to the bed and lit a candle which stood on the bedside table, then picked up a glass and handed it to her.

She pulled herself to a semi-sitting position and took it from him. "Is this a potion?" she croaked.

"It is water."

She took a sip. It tasted cold and clean. It was too clean for her...she shouldn't be drinking this...

She stopped drinking, but did not remove the glass from her lips. Instead she sniffed and began crying, with her nose deep in the glass. He peeled her fingers from the glass and took it away.

"Second stage - depression. I am afraid you will feel bad for the next couple of hours, Miss Carver. I could give you a sleeping draft, but it would merely postpone the inevitable. Natural sleep is a much more effective medicine."

Tears were streaming down her face. Everything that had ever upset her seemed to be returning to her memory and cutting afresh their injuries.

She remembered being three-years old and wondering how she could have been so naughty that her mummy had gone away; when Boy George, her pet rabbit had died; when _Gran _had died. Everything came up and overwhelmed her until she held her head in her hands and sobbed.

Snape had moved to an adjoining room and when he returned he held a bowl and a cloth. He dipped the cloth in the bowl and wrung it out, holding the cloth towards her.

"Here. It is a balm. It will help cool and calm you. Hold it to your forehead."

She looked at the cloth and took it slowly, but even that gesture made her burst into tears.

"I'm just a complete waste of space, aren't I? I've caused you nothing but aggravation from the moment I arrived. I didn't mean to come here, I promise. Even when I get home I've got to play in that bloody concert and I can't, I know I can't, because my playing sucks. Everything I do sucks. I can't even pick flowers without getting into trouble... OH!"

She had suddenly remembered what she'd done on the banks of the lake the night before and the heat that rushed to her face made her wail even more.

"No wonder John left...I don't blame him...I can't even keep a _cat_ let alone a boyfriend...and I get lost all the time, so why would anyone want to stay with me anyway...and I'll never be as elegant as Katharine Hepburn because I can't even put lipstick on without it looking like jam round my mouth..._and_ my hair has got split ends..."

Snape took hold of the hand that held the cloth and forced it up to her forehead. She leaned her head back on the pillow feeling totally exhausted and desolate.

"I feel so tired," she said, letting her arm and the cloth fall away from her head. "You don't know how debilitating it is, having split ends..."

As she drifted off to sleep, she felt the bed dip as though he'd sat on the edge and then the cool cloth being dabbed gently over her face.

When she woke again, the room was still in semi-darkness, but she felt much better - still crap, but much better. Her muscles were very stiff and they complained as she forced herself to sit up.

She peered at what she was wearing. She seemed to be in some kind of Victorian nightdress, smocked at the front, long sleeves gathered at the wrists and the whole thing was, by the feel of it, voluminous.

Her eyes swept the room.

This was _not _her room. Although the furniture appeared to be the same, it was arranged differently. Even in the dark she could see the bed-hangings and cover were different.

The door to the room was, once again, wide open. Curious, she pulled back the bed covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Sliding down the remaining few inches to the flagstones, she padded, a bit wobbly, across the room, the hem of her nightdress trailing behind her.

She peered out.

She knew immediately where she was, but couldn't quite bring herself to believe it. There in the middle of the room was the refectory table. The light from the glowing fire in the grate reflecting and licking over the dark wood.

"Miss Carver?"

She jumped, giving a little gasp at the same time. A dark figure was rising from the sofa which had been hidden from view by the table.

"Wha...how...huh?" There were far too many questions vying for first place, so that she ended up saying nothing.

She heard a whisper and the torches on the walls gradually got brighter until the room was lit to a comfortable dimness. She moved further into the room and saw a blanket, now scrunched up at the bottom of the sofa. She looked up at him in astonishment.

"Y...you've been sleeping on the...? I've been in _your_...? I..."

"If I didn't know better, Miss Carver, I would assume your gibberish was due to some poison remaining in your system."

He moved past her, crouched to the fireplace and began stoking the fire. The flames illuminated his face giving him, for once, an almost healthy glow. His hair swung forwards as he moved to put a few logs on the fire, but she could still see the flicker of the flames dancing in his eyes.

He hadn't exactly been at the front of the queue when they were dishing out facial features, and no way did his personality make up for the shortcomings in his looks, but there was something about the way he tended the fire, arranged the logs to best catch the flames;the way the bedroom door had been left open, presumably so he could keep an eye on her at a respectable distance; the way... (she swallowed) The way the cloth of his trousers stretched across his thighs as he crouched before the fire, that set something stirring deep inside her.

"Have you never seen a fire being stoked before, Miss Carver?" he said irritably, without looking up.

She shuffled to the table, pulled out a chair and sat. "I feel like shit. I must look it, too."

"Delightfully put." He stood up, brushing his hands together to rid them of dust. "Having seen you with strings of vomit hanging from your nose and mouth, I can inform you you look marginally improved."

"What time is it?"

"Almost four."

"In the _morning?_ Oh, God, I've been out ages. What the hell happened to me?"

"You were stung by a Tiger-fly."

She gave a croaky laugh. "Don't be daft, a wasp can't do that to someone..." She caught sight of his face and stopped. You didn't call Professor Snape 'daft'.

"A Tiger-fly is far from being an ordinary wasp, Miss Carver."

"I'm sorry. My Gran always called wasps 'Tiger-flies'. The sting, does it always have that effect?"

"Invariably. The Tiger-fly feeds off a fungus that grows on crops. It is a pure form of lysergic acid which affects the poison in the fly's sting, making it an hallucinogen."

"Whoa!" Andi stood up, sending the chair scraping over the stone. "What do you mean, 'hallucinogen'? 'Lysergic acid'? Are you...are you talking about LSD? I did_ acid?" _She could feel the blood draining from her face, her hands were trembling.

"If that is the Muggle term for it, then yes; but you didn't 'do' it, you were stung by an insect that carries it. No one is going to come knocking on your door, Miss Carver."

She sat down again, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger and sighed. "Well that accounts for the talking trees and...oh!" She glanced over at him. She put her hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle a giggle as the memory of Snape singing _'Sandy'_ came back to her

He stared back at her, expressionless.

"Did we..." She cleared her throat, trying to control her smiles. "Did we really dance on the lawn?"

"I can assure you, no," he said, coolly. "When I became disrupted by your incessant yelling, I came out of the castle to get you. You began struggling with me."

His words jogged another memory and she glanced at his right ear. "I think I might have thumped you in the ear, I'm sorry. In fact," She looked up at him with sincerity. "I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you. I've been a pain in the arse, haven't I?"

"Another delightful Muggle expression Miss Carver but, yes, you have."

There was silence for a little while and she watched the flames dancing in the fire-basket.

She had a vague memory of holding him at some point - of having her arms around him. She felt a sudden warmth - the fire must have flared...

Her eye moved to the brass handle set into the wall at the side of the mantelpiece and suddenly realised how hungry she felt. She glanced at the wooden bowl where she'd seen apples on her first day here. It was empty.

"Could I possibley get something to eat? Some tea and..." (she was positive she saw him wince) "French toast?"

It was brought. As she sat eating, the sleeves of her nightgown brushed across the surface of the table and she realised there was one, quite important question she hadn't asked.

"Professor...um...did...did _you_...put me into bed?"

There was the merest pause; a skipped beat that would have gone unnoticed had she not seen his eyes glance towards the region of her breasts at the same time.

"If you mean did I undress you - no. Your modesty, on this occasion, has been preserved by magic. I produced your nightclothes with a spell."

They looked at each other. Andi felt the fire flare again.

He got up abruptly. "I think you are sufficiently recovered to sleep in your own room now, Miss Carver."

"Oh God yes, I'm sorry." She had completely forgotten it was four o'clock in the morning and he probably wanted to sleep. She swallowed the last of her tea and got up.

As they moved towards the door, he stooped slightly to grasp the door handle. His head lower, she noticed a bruise just in front of his ear where she'd hit him. She felt something melt inside and, giving in to a sudden urge, leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

He turned an astonished face towards her.

She was still on her toes, her face close to his and her eyes fell to his lips, slightly parted in surprise. For a brief moment she had another, stronger urge which she arrested before she could put into action.

"Thank you," she said, and blushing, turned to the door.

He opened the door slowly. She left the warmth of his room and went out into the cold corridor. When she reached her own door she looked back. He was still standing there, watching her.

"Goodnight, Miss Carver."

She heard his door click shut just before she closed her own.


	15. Lollie Lends A Hand

I'm so glad you're all still reading! Any ideas how I can get more readers will be welcome. I have now finished writing this story (it runs to 22 chapters) and of all the chapters, I have found this next one the hardest to write. You wouldn't BELIEVE the number of variations it has been through! I've been really chuffed with your comments about how I have kept Snape in character, and I'm trying hard to keep it that way as his armour begins to crack - no easy task. I hope I don't disappoint.

Your reviews mean so much to me - please keep them coming.

Chapter Fifteen

**LOLLIE LENDS A HAND**

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****"Lollie?" 

Andi had opened her eyes and seen through a blur of sleepiness, a small person moving around the room. 

"Yes, Miss. Lollie is sorry she is waking Miss, but it is time to be getting ready for dinner. 

"Erm..." Still confused from sleep, Andi scrunched her eyes in an effort to take in what the elf had said. "Dinner?" She reached for her watch. "Lollie - it's six-thirty...in the _evening?" _

"Yes Miss. Professor Snape instructed Lollie to let you sleep." 

Andi looked at her. 

"Did he? That was very_..._thoughtful of him." 

"The Professor said he wanted Miss 'out of the way'." 

Ah! That sounded more like it. 

"I have run Miss' bath for her..." 

"Lollie - you don't need to do that..." 

"...and have put out a dress..." 

Andi followed the elf's gaze to the wardrobe. 

Hanging on the outside of the door was a deep royal blue silk dress. It looked to be floor-length, cut on the bias so it hung beautifully and it had just one long sleeve. 

Andi went to it and stroked it. 

"Oh, Lollie, it's beautiful but...I think it's probably a bit too fancy for dinner with Professor Snape." 

"Lollie thought the sleeve would hide Miss' injury." She looked at Andi expectantly. 

Andi looked into the mirror which ran down between the two doors of the wardrobe. She pulled open the neck of her nightdress and winced. The bite was now a red scab. 

"Well, it certainly needs to be covered," she agreed. "_I _wouldn't like to be sitting opposite _that _while I ate." 

She took down the dress and held it up against her. It certainly was lovely, and she was very tempted, but... 

...would _he _like it? He gave nothing away, so she had no idea what his tastes might be. Would he like the fact that one of her shoulders was bare? It was so difficult to tell... 

_WHOA!_

_What the hell are you doing? This isn't a _date!_ Stop it! Stop it, right now!_

"No, Lollie, I'm sorry, this dress is too much. I don't think I should..." 

"Miss' eyes shine like sapphires." 

Andi looked - and gasped. 

She'd never seen her eyes looking so blue. 

She held the dress away from her and her eyes went back to their normal flaccid blue. She brought the dress back and immediately her irises came alive. 

Wow! 

"Miss' bath is ready..." 

Lollie was acting like a lady's maid. She busied herself around the bathroom while Andi took her bath; handed her a towel; watched, fascinated, as she applied her make-up. 

Andi put the dress on. 

Lollie scrunched her face. 

"What?" asked Andi. 

"Will Miss allow Lollie's adjustment?" 

Lollie pointed her finger at Andi's head. There was a startling '_phsssst' _that made Andi jump, then realise she'd felt her hair shift. Looking in the mirror, she gasped... 

"Lollie! That is _definitely _too much!" 

Lollie had coiled her hair into a soft knot at the back of her head, leaving two corkscrew curls hanging before her ears. Andi couldn't believe her hair was long enough to wear it like that. 

"Miss looks very..._elegant..._" Lollie turned away as she spoke, leaving the word hanging in the air. 

Elegant? 

Andi looked in the mirror again. Yes, she _did _look elegant - more _Audrey_ Hepburn than Katharine - but definitely elegant; and wasn't that what she secretly longed to be? 

But...no, no...it was too posh, too fancy... 

"Please take my hair down," she said to the elf. 

Half-heartedly, Lollie lifted her finger, but then stopped and cocked her head to one side, her ears flapping slightly. 

"Lollie is hearing a strange noise..." 

"Huh?" Andi listened and sure enough there was a strange bleeping noise coming from somewhere near her handbag. 

Andi walked over. The noise was coming from inside her bag. She opened it and, scrabbling through all the junk, she lighted on her mobile which was flashing a red light and making the bleeping noise. 

She stared at it. 

"Professor Snape said muggle things didn't work at Hogwarts." 

Lollie looked at the flashing light. 

"Lollie is thinking, perhaps the storm..?" 

"Storm? There was a storm?" 

"This afternoon. It sometimes disturbs muggle things..." 

Frantically Andi began pressing buttons, trying to see if there was a message or whether she could ring out - but no. There was no reception, nothing. Andi pressed the silence button, dropped the phone back in the bag and took out her personal cd player. When she pressed the button, the light on that came on, too. She pressed 'play', put the earpiece to her ear and sighed as music wafted into her ears. 

She could have listened to the whole CD, but it was time to go. 

Lollie was standing by the door with a bowl of green apples in her arms. 

"Are those for Professor Snape?" Andi asked, remembering seeing the empty bowl on his table last night. 

"Yes, Miss." 

"Well, here...let me take them..." 

Andi was half way down the corridor when her step faltered. 

Hold on a moment...what was going on here? A sexy dress picked out for her...her hair put up...a bowl of apples to be delivered... 

Andi had the distinct feeling she'd been manipulated. 

What was that elf up to? 

"...Miss Carver!" 

"You...you _were_ expecting me?" she asked, wondering why he looked so surprised. 

He didn't answer. 

"Professor?" 

"No...I had assumed you would prefer to dine in your own room this evening." 

She caught sight of the candlelit table, set for two. 

"Oh, I see - you have company." An absurd disappointment welled up inside her. "I'm sorry...I didn't realise. I'll go back to my room..." 

Snape followed her gaze and raised his eyebrows. 

"It seems the house-elves know better than I - that certainly was _not_ there a moment ago." He turned to her. "I do not have 'company', Miss Carver and, as the food is now here, we may as well dine." 

She stepped into the room just as the fire burst into life. Andi stared - she could have sworn she'd just seen Lollie disappear into thin air. 

"Erm..." Dragging her eyes away from the fireplace, she turned to Snape and held the bowl towards him. "Apples for the teacher." 

He took them slowly, silently. 

"I noticed you'd run out," she smiled. Well, it wasn't a lie - she _had _noticed, last night. 

"Thank you." 

Snape gestured her into the room and held the chair out for her. 

The fire was crackling in the hearth; the table laid with tureens of vegetables and chicken in...Andi sniffed...white wine; the candlelight reflected prettily on the crystal ware. It all looked very... 

...oh dear... 

_...romantic._

"You are recovered?" he said, as he dished chicken onto a plate and handed it to her. 

"Oh, thank you," she said, taking the plate. "Yes, I'm feeling much better, thank you, Professor. Potatoes?" She dished two spoonfuls onto his raised plate. 

"Thank you. Although I suspect from your eyes there may be a trace of the poison still present..." he said, lifting the lid on a dish of steaming buttered asparagus. 

"My eyes?" 

"Yes. They are a much deeper blue tonight. Asparagus?" 

"Oh!" She smiled, lifting her plate. He placed the asparagus on it. "No, it's this dress - it brings out the colour." 

His face fell. He looked nettled - as though she'd tricked him. He looked at the served food, dropped the lid back on the asparagus with a loud '_chink_' and then glanced at her hair and the dress. 

"A little excessive for a simple dinner, perhaps?" he said, spitefully. 

She coloured. 

"It...it hides the sting, that's all," she said quietly, a lump rising in her throat. 

Silence. 

"Wine?" 

"No thank you. I think I've had enough mind-altering substances recently..." 

He picked up the water jug in his right hand and went to pour some into her glass. Andi could see the jug was full, but to her surprise, nothing came out. 

"What the..? That _damned_ house-elf...she has given me a leftpaw jug..." He transferred the jug to his left hand and then stood up and walked round the back of her chair. 

Andi held her breath as his arm stretched across from her left to the water glass on the right. She felt his right hand on the back of her chair and became aware, once again, of the sweet herby scent of his body. 

Her eyes travelled the black sleeve of his shirt and noticed how the cuff reached deep along the back of his hand and was shaped to a point that finished at his knuckle. His fingers were curled around the handle of the jug with only his thumb wholly visible as he poured. Her mouth had gone dry, her heartbeat increased. She was acutely aware of how close his body was; she felt enclosed by it, sitting in the semi-circle his arms had made around her. She felt very hot, very heady. His right hand had actually brushed against her bare shoulder... 

A crash and an oath brought her back to earth. Her empty wine glass had fallen onto a serving dish and smashed. Water was spreading over the table from her overfilled water glass. With a yelp she leapt up from her seat before the water could reach the edge of the table and soak her dress. 

Snape was cursing under his breath as he began mopping the water with a table-napkin. 

"My apologies," he said, a tinge of a flush appearing high on his cheeks. "I do not seem very adept at pouring with my left hand." 

He dried the table while she collected the glass. 

They sat back down. 

The accident seemed to have unnerved Snape. He looked annoyed and uncomfortable. He shook his hair from his face and cleared his throat before saying, without looking at her, 

"I have heard from the Headmaster." 

"Oh, really?" 

"You are to be returned home tomorrow afternoon." 

"Oh." 

Well that piece of news had been delivered rather clinically, the relief in his voice, very clear. 

"There are some official Ministry papers you will have to sign, therefore the Headmaster will be here at nine tomorrow morning with the Minister for Magic, who will explain exactly what it is you are signing." 

"Sorry, the _what?" _

"The Minister for Magic - Cornelius Fudge." 

"Minister for Magic? You mean, he's like a Prime Minister or something?" 

"I believe your Prime Minister is the equivalent, yes." 

Andi had a picture of Tony Blair postponing meetings with international dignitaries to come and see her - it just wasn't going to happen. 

"Is there anything special I should know? Do I have to curtsey or anything?" 

He looked at her as if she were mad. 

"No, Miss Carver, a simple handshake will do." 

She stared at the candle flame. 

"So - _goodness_ - this is my last dinner here..." 

"Indeed." 

Andi swallowed. Three days ago this would have been the best news; now it didn't feel so comfortable. 

She looked at him and raised her water glass towards him. 

"Well, thank you Professor, for putting up with me - I know it's been a trial for you." 

He looked at her glass, disdainfully. 

"Miss Carver, that is a _muggle_ custom." 

She smiled. 

"Indulge me." 

Their eyes met across the table and Andi saw something flare momentarily behind his eyes that sent her insides into a total frenzy. 

She had difficulty keeping her gasp silent. 

She didn't know what the hell it had been but... 

...good God! It had _completely_ turned her on. 

Slowly he raised his glass and clinked it against hers as though nothing strange had happened. 

"And thank _you_, Miss Carver. It has been...an experience." 

She lowered her glass with a shaking hand. 

There was a silence. 

What in God's name had he just done to her? 

Desperately, she looked around for something else to say, to occupy her mind. 

"Um...Professor, about the poison - with LSD I've heard there can be flashbacks. I'm a little worried..." 

"Yes, I believe the muggle manufactured drug can cause what are known as 'flashbacks'," he said. "A vivid replay of what one saw whilst affected. However, the tiger-fly injects a pure form of Lysergic Acid which will not cause any delayed or repeated reactions." 

"Oh, thank goodness! I would hate to be playing in a classical concert and suddenly break into the overture for '_Grease'" _she smiled. 

"Grease?" 

"It's a musical - a play with songs." 

He looked contemptuous. 

"Only a _muggle_ could conceive a show about a lubricant." 

She giggled. 

"Actually, it's a very lively, energetic show about the ups and downs of High School romance." 

"I cannot imagine anything more nauseating." 

She regarded his look of distaste. 

"No," she said, quietly. "I don't suppose you can." 

And despite how that look had made her feel a moment ago, somewhere in the deeper recesses of her mind, a door closed. 

The dinner was over. 

As they moved towards the door, she suddenly remembered last night and the expression on his face when she'd kissed him on the cheek. What on earth would he have done had she followed her other urge and kissed him on the lips? She couldn't help a huge smile form on her face at the thought. 

"Miss Carver..." 

Before she changed her expression, she turned, giving him the full force of her smile. 

He had his mouth open to speak. 

She waited. 

"Professor?" 

"Ahm..." He blinked and shook his head quickly. "Nine o'clock tomorrow morning. Try not to be late," he said, abruptly. 

"I won't be late. I'm just going..." 

He closed the door very quickly. 

"...for a last stroll by the lake..."


	16. Alice

Thank you, thank you for being supportive about that last chapter - I sweated buckets over it, I can tell you! There are messages for all my reviewers of that last chapter at the end.

I thought you might be interested to know, this next chapter was the very first one I wrote. This whole story evolved around it. Naturally it has changed a bit since that first idea, but the spark of the idea is responsible for everything you've read so far and are yet to read.

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**Chapter Sixteen**

******ALICE**

Before she left the castle to go for her walk, she returned to her room and went to her handbag. She found her CD player and checked it. To her surprise, it was still working. Eagerly, she put the earplugs in, hung the player on her shoulder and walked back down the corridor, up the stairs and out of the castle towards the lake, all the time soaking up the music flowing into her ears. 

She hadn't realised how much she'd missed music. This was such a treat, listening to other people's music, rather than having to rely on her own piano playing all the time she'd been in Hogwarts. Some of her favourite songs, her favourite singers were on this CD. 

She wandered by the lake, listening to the music, watching the full moon reflecting in the water and wondering if it looked as beautiful from the muggle side of the archway. 

Well, she'd be able to check tomorrow when she was back home... 

...she suddenly imagined herself standing on the other side of the archway, with nothing but castle ruins surrounding her, knowing the Professor was somewhere around, going about his business, so near and yet so impossibly far. 

The thought made her feel slightly sick. 

She had to admit something was happening; something had shifted inside her that was making her think of him in a different way; so much so, the thought of going home left her with a cold, empty feeling. 

But she shouldn't feel like that. It was hopeless; ridiculous. 

There had been a few moments when she'd thought perhaps he was showing some interest - when he'd opened the door to her this evening, his eyes had widened in surprise and, what had looked like delight, as though the sight of her had pleased him. But then came that bitchy comment about her appearance, so... 

...and OK perhaps she'd had an effect on him the night of the Night Diamond, but most straight men would be the same at the sight of a female body through a wet dress. 

Even the look she'd seen for a moment behind his eyes tonight that had set fireworks off inside her... 

In any other man, she would have taken these things as a signal he was interested; but there was no point in reading anything into any of it, because this _wasn't_ any other man; this was Professor Severus Snape - cold, unapproachable and uninterested in the extreme. 

She looked away into the distance as her eyes began to prickle. 

And yet, he had sat on the edge of the bed, sponging the cool balm over her face and even in her confused mind, she had recognised how different his touch had been compared to the day she'd arrived at Hogwarts... 

...he'd given up his bed for her...looked after her... 

She spluttered a laugh...he'd even stooped to a muggle-style toast this evening, when it had clearly bothered him to do so... 

She rubbed her arms as she strolled along. The storm had broken the weather. It was still warm, but a fresh breeze was rippling over the lake, putting goose pimples on her arms. 

She reached the willow and sighed as she leaned up against it and looked out at the beautiful view. She was going to miss... 

...this. 

And then a song began that she had forgotten was on the CD. A song she loved, but didn't listen too very much because it held a special place in her heart and the moments were very personal. 

She stepped away from the tree and pressed the button that restarted the song: 

'_Alice_' by Tom Waits. 

The lyrics were incredibly sad, but so beautiful - the music, slow, dreamy and very, very smoochy. 

As always whenever she listened to this song, her eyes closed and she began to sway to the music, her hands joined loosely behind her back, and, as always, her imaginary dance partner joined her. 

Andi had never put a face to this person. He was someone who always stepped out of the ether as the song began and who faded away as it finished. It never happened with any other song - just '_Alice'._

She imagined his arm slipping around her back, hers to his shoulder, he clasped her right hand and held it close to his body as they danced, their feet barely moving. His cheek would press lightly against her temple, his mouth close to her ear. 

The warmth of emotion that welled up inside as their bodies moved to the smokey, sensual sound, was more than she had ever encountered in any genuine situation. She had never danced to this song with any real person because she'd never yet met the man who could equal the feelings her secret partner moved in her. 

He was special. He was...special. 

The heat of the night infused her senses. The music was hypnotic; the sensations rising in her, intoxicating. A tiny bead of a tear appeared in the outer corner of her eye as the song slipped into the sax solo, and such was her altered state of consciousness, Andi actually lifted her arms to slide them around an imaginary neck. She felt the reassuring solidness of his body against her own, the gentle breathing against her ear and then the roughness of his jaw as it moved across her skin, their faces remaining in contact as she tilted her head upwards, eyes still closed, lips just a breath away from his. 

The hands on her back pulled her gently closer, the first touch to her lips so light, the breeze might have played across them. Slowly, softly, their mouths came together and she melted into the delicious, sensual taste of him; into the heat rising from their bodies; into the feeling that this was so..._right._

Never had she felt like this, especially from just a kiss. He could ask _anything_ of her right now and she knew she would comply; her body was completely aroused. Her senses were drowning in the security of his arms and in the sweet, herby scent of his body... 

Andi gasped, her eyes shot open and she staggered backwards. 

The moment crashed around her as the song finished and she found herself completely alone beside the water. 

Frantically, her eyes darted over the grass, over the lake, even into the distant trees. 

She was quite alone. 

But that kiss..! 

She raised a trembling hand to her mouth, and found it still moist. Her heart was beating fast, her skin had turned colder. It was true, she'd never been so intoxicated with the moment before, but neither had she ever been left with the trace of his kiss still tingling on her lips, the taste of him still strong to her senses... 

...and the scent of his body so powerfully familiar. 

Shivering with shock, she wrapped her arms around her body and began making her way back towards the castle, feeling confused, dazed and a little frightened. 

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If you are curious to know what Andi is listening to, you can hear a 30 min extract or even download the entire song at amazon .Just go to Popular Music, Tom Waits, Alice. 

**TheRealiz:** There were three reasons why Snape was upset about the eye/dress comment. 

1) It's a very old trick and although he may not necessarily believe Andi had done it on purpose, it had caught him out, and effectively changed his observation into an unintentional compliment. 

2) It had also let slip that he'd taken notice of her eye colour _before _that night. 

3) He'd suddenly realised how cozy-cozy they'd been, serving food to each other. 

In other words, he'd been caught off guard, so he had to recover with the spiteful remark. Actually, I can't believe just how_ many_ mistakes he made during that dinner! 

**Kerichi:** Yeah, what is it about SS/HG fics? I love them too, but I don't know why. 

**Flamethrowerqueen:** Then my work here is done! Welcome to the drooling club. 

**Celtic Elf: **My first and constant reviewer. LOL.xxx 

**Prissy & Andromida: **Your search today has not been in vain. Thanks for your reviews. 

**Thousandl: **Don't panic. After all, tomorow is another day! 

**FemmeLoki:** Yep! and I'm so glad you found Grill's 'The Seduction Game'. Great, isn't it?


	17. Madness

Lots of love everyone. I'm updating today because it's a Bank Holiday here in the UK. As this chapter has a bit of a cliffy, I'll warn you the next update is scheduled for Friday or Saturday. Messages for everyone at the end. love and kisses.

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**Chapter Seventeen**

******MADNESS**

Halfway to the castle her step faltered. She turned back and began walking towards the lake again. 

She didn't know what to do with herself, where to go to escape the emotions rising up through her body making her sob with impending tears. 

It couldn't be, it just _couldn't_. 

The imaginary dance-partner, the one no man had ever lived up to - it _couldn't_ be Snape - that would be too cruel.__

How _dare _he step into that dance with her and put a face to her fantasy. She refused to allow it to be him; she would not permit it to be him...__

_Bastard!_

__How could a man who appeared so cold, so distant, so _bitter_ make her feel like liquid as he held her; as he kissed her? How could he just suddenly turn that on? Because he _had_ been there. He _must_ have been there. Her lips had been crushed by his; her back had retained the heat of his hand... 

...her body felt consumed with... 

_Oh! This couldn't be happening!_

...with _need_. She _needed_ him. She... 

She reached the willow and put her forehead to the trunk. There was no Night Diamond to blame for the way she was feeling tonight. 

She couldn't possibly feel this way about someone who deigned to stay in the same room as her because he was following orders; who was about as tactile as a rattle snake. How could it possibly have been him dancing with her just a little while ago, making her feel so utterly...utterly...overwhelmed with emotion? 

No...it must have been because she'd been thinking about him just before the song played. It had obviously invaded and enhanced her imagination...surely? 

Frantically she scrabbled for the earplugs switched on the CD player and found the track. 

Putting her hands behind her back just as she always did, she closed her eyes and began swaying to the music in an attempt to bring the evidence back; but the moment wasn't there - her nerves were too jangled, too near the surface to step into the dance. 

She leaned back against the tree in defeat and closed her eyes as she listened to the song; and when it had finished, played it again; and then again: 

_"...The only strings that woo me here_

_Are tangled up around the pier_. 

_And so a secret kiss_

_Brings madness with the bliss._

_And I will think of this_

_When I'm dead in my grave._

_Set me adrift and I'm lost_

_Over there_

_And I must be insane_

_To go skating on your name_

_And by tracing it twice_

_I fell through the ice_

_Of Alice."_

Once again, as the sax solo began, something happened. She felt a sudden quickening of her blood and a thrill ran up and down her spine. She was suddenly absolutely certain he was nearby. 

Tentatively, she half-opened her eyes, peering through the curtain of her lashes, anxious not to have him disappear like last time. 

Through her half-vision she saw him standing a little way off, between her and the lake, and silhouetted dramatically against the full moon and deep, deep indigo sky. 

He didn't move, he just stood very still. 

_Are you watching me, Professor?_

She watched him watching her for a few moments, feeling breathless to be looking at him as the song crooned in her ears. 

Then as the song ended she opened her eyes fully and pulled the earplugs from her ears. She stared at him, her heart beating fast. What timing was this? 

He began walking towards her. He was clutching a cloth of some sort in his hands. 

"I did not mean to startle you, Miss Carver. I called but you did not hear..." 

"I...had these in," she said, indicating the earplugs and barely able to speak. "I was listening to...a song..." 

He came nearer. Her heart was beating _so _hard as she searched his face for anything - any acknowledgement of what had taken place a little while ago; pleading silently for him to take her in his arms and confess that, yes, it _had_ been him dancing with her a moment ago and that he had to have her, now, this very minute and just...just...rip her clothes off, throw her to the ground and... 

"You should come in. It is approaching midnight on a full moon - it is dangerous for you to be out." 

She kept her eyes on him as she stepped to her left. 

"Just here, Professor, I had the most extraordinary experience...I believed I was dancing with a man. It seemed so real, I felt the warmth of his hand on my back, the heat of his kisses and...and..." 

He stepped towards her, busying himself with folding the cloth to a large triangle as he did. 

"The full moon and the recent poison you have experienced can play tricks with your mind, Miss Carver..." 

Moving behind her he draped the cloth over her shoulders. The fabric was at once cold on her skin and warming against the breeze that whispered through the trees. 

Her mind was so focused on the dance, on the kiss, she failed to recognise this unprompted act of chivalry. Absently, she pulled the ends of the shawl about her and turned to him. 

"...I felt something I've never felt before and it frightens me; it frightens me because I know I will never, ever feel it again and I want to tear my hair out with the insanity of it..." 

Her eyes were wide and heavy with moisture as she searched his face for...anything...any emotion, any acknowledgement, but he merely turned away with a gesture to return to the castle. 

They walked back along the banks of the lake. She walked as close to him as she dared. The moon reflected on the water, crickets chirruped all around, a couple of owls swooped overhead. It was the perfect romantic setting. 

"Just a moment." 

She stopped and turned to drink it all in - trying to capture the memory in her head before she left the real thing for ever... 

_Oh, who are you kidding, Andrea. You're stalling, just so that you can stand here close to him and share this moment. And tell the truth now, you're giving him the opportunity to...you're hoping he'll..._

"Isn't this beautiful?" she whispered. 

Silence. 

"Professor?" She turned to look at him, knowing she was bathed in moonlight, knowing her eyes would be shining, her skin glowing. 

"I...I have never given it much thought..." 

_Think about it now. Oh, think about it now._

If ever there was the perfectly staged scene to continue anything he had done to her during the dance, this was it. If he didn't say or do something now, then it never was, and never would be. True, she could make a move, but she couldn't be sure he'd really been there in her arms. Only he knew. She couldn't risk it. 

"...Where others see beauty, I see only danger." 

He was looking at her, his back to the moon, his black eyes glittering in the half-light. They were mesmerising. She felt herself swaying towards him, so that she actually had to put a foot forward to steady herself. She took the opportunity to move the other foot in line, bringing her a step closer to him. 

"It doesn't move you at all? It doesn't stir anything inside you?" She gazed into his eyes, unable to look away, her heart beating hard. 

"I..." 

Was it her imagination, or had he swayed towards _her?_

__"Is there no poetry in you, Professor?" she whispered. 

His face hardened, suddenly, dramatically. 

"No," he snapped. "My vocabulary tends to desert me when I am face to face with a werewolf. Could we please return to the castle..?" 

They continued their walk. 

That was _it _then. He felt nothing while she felt like a deck of cards in a cyclone. 

Andi couldn't do it. She couldn't walk next to him as though everything were normal. She struggled with a rising sob and realised she was on the verge of a major crying session, and that would never do in front of him. 

"Sorry...have to go..." she managed to splutter, and picking up her dress, ran ahead, back to the castle, tears streaming down her face. 

She got to her room and leaned back against her door. Her head was ready to explode. She couldn't handle this. She was going mad. 

Scrunching her eyes up, she bent double and cried out, almost howled, with the pain of it. 

Just what had she done, for God to play this awful trick on her? 

_"Here you are, Andrea, here's the man I've marked out for you - this is your mystery man, the one who's supposed to be so special. Good joke, huh? Well here's the punchline...you don't even exist in the same _world; _and even if you did, his heart is buried under a ton of ice! Hahahaha. Serves you right for being such a waste of space. I've never known what to do with you, Andrea. After all, you only exist because your mother had a quickie while my back was turned..."_

Throwing the CD player onto the bed, she stumbled to the bathroom. 

Albus Dumbledore would be here tomorrow. He would help her. She felt safe with him around. If she asked, she was sure he would take her someplace else until it was time to go home. She couldn't possibly face Snape again, not feeling like this. Normal behaviour was now impossible. 

She glanced at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were now pink; her face was ashen, apart from two fierce red blobs on the apples of her cheeks. 

God, what a mess. 

There was nothing left but go to bed, even though sleep was completely out of the question. She would just have to lie awake and count the hours till morning and then try and avoid Snape as much as possible. 

Resigned, she began untying the shawl - and stopped. 

What was this he'd put around her shoulders? 

This wasn't her shawl - she didn't have a shawl. 

She looked down at the cloth and frowned. Silver with a gold fringe..? 

This...this was the Crone's tablecloth! 

The _Crone!_

Suddenly the words of the Crone came back to her. 

_"Alice is important. She brings a question you wish answered..."_

Alice was the _song!_

And the question she always asked whenever she danced to _'Alice' _was 'who was the ghostly man who always danced with her?' 

"_In the fullness of the moon she answers your question..."_

Real or in her imagination, her question had been answered - her mystery dance partner was Snape. 

"_She brings you clarity. She will bring a sign that you are to trust your intuition..."_

There couldn't be a bigger sign than Snape handing her the Crone's tablecloth. 

What did Andi's intuition tell her? 

That it _hadn't _been a dream or hallucination. That he really_ had_, somehow, walked into her arms tonight; had somehow been able to kiss her. 

...and then Andi remembered something else - something very important that had happened just after she'd been stung by the tiger-fly. 

She gasped with the sudden clarity of it all, and ran from her room to his door... 

------ 

**TheRealiz: **You _are _special! And yes, I've had that dance too! Thanks for leaving my 100th review. 

**Prissygirl: **Brilliant lyrics, huh? You should hear the music. I've quoted some words in this chapter. 

**Kerichi:** With you with Tom Waits' voice. It's not pretty, but.....mmmm. 

**Thatweirdgirl & Fury's Grace:** Thanks for reading - please keep on. And please leave your reviews, they brighten my day. 

**Helena Oe:** I'm blushing! What a lovely review. Thanks. 

**Ana:** Remember - no apparating at Hogwarts. 

**Femmeloki:** I'm not sure what I'LL do when I end this! 

**Thousandl: **I'm so glad I've aroused your curiosity. And, unlike Scarlett, I get the feeling Andi isn't so eager to return to Tara. 

**CelticElf: **Oh, that last comment was from the heart. Are you in angst, CelticElf? You have my full sympathy if you are. lol. 


	18. Bliss

I loved every one of your reviews, but Im not going to comment this time - I would just like you to get on and (hopefully) enjoy this next chapter. Let me know what you think and whether I did OK. lol, Severusgirl xxxx

Oh, except...Furys Grace; No! For the love of God, no! It will only end in tears. Trust me.

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Bliss**

"Professor?"

No answer.

She knocked harder, spoke firmer.

"Professor, I need to speak with you."

No response.

"Professor!"

Desperately, she turned the doorknob - the door opened.

Snape was hurrying into the room from the bedroom as Andi burst in through the door. He was dressed but his shirt was open and his feet bare. He looked at her, shocked.

"How did you open...? How dare you..?!"

Like a virtuous maiden he quickly began fastening his shirt. He looked at her, his expression changing to one that, a few days ago would have sent her scuttling back to her room. Not now, though.

"I need to speak to you."

"You are in my room _uninvited_. Please would you leave."

"_You _were in my _arms_ uninvited, earlier this evening, Professor." She moved further into the room and took a deep breath, "But...but its an invitation I would extend, if I thought you would accept."

He blinked, as if for a moment wrongfooted. "Flashbacks, Miss Carver. It sometimes happens-"

"You said I wouldnt get flashbacks."

"Then obviously I was wrong."

"_You_ were _wrong?"_

"None of us is infallible, Miss Carver."

She gazed at him sadly,

"True. And will you have failed if you give in to your basic instincts, Professor? You used some kind of...astral projection in order to hold me, didnt you - because you cant allow yourself to touch me physically."

He spluttered, disarmed. "I _really_ think...it would be best if you returned to your own room, Miss Carver. You are obviously not quite recovered from the poison."

He made to usher her out of the room, but she stood her ground and grasped his arm to prevent him moving past her.

"But you _did _hold me in reality, didnt you Professor? That morning I was stung. We were sitting on the sofa and I threw my arms around you and held you, remember? And just now, back in my room, I remembered what happened next. You let me _stay_. You let me stay with my arms around you, and you...you _held_ me! You held me close in your arms until Id calmed down."

"These were just hallucinations-"

"Oh, no. No, no, no. That is _so _not true." She held out the shawl to him. "You gave me this out by the lake."

"You left it on your chair."

"I didnt _have_ a shawl, Professor, I was wearing just this dress at dinner - I think you _do _remember."

Yes, he did remember because her unexpected appearance at his door earlier that evening _had _surprised and delighted him, she was sure of that now.

He looked from her to the shawl. Was there a look of unease about his face? It was difficult to tell.

"This shawl belongs in a painting on the first floor. I dont know how it got on my chair, but it doesnt belong to me. What belongs to me is clarity. The shawl has brought me clarity - so I _know _you held me yesterday. Just as I know there are other people in the castle, arent there, Professor; you said so yourself, a bare minimum of staff, and one of them happens to be a medical person, doesnt it; but instead of taking me to that person and letting them take care of me when I was stung, you chose to give up your bed and look after me yourself."

He stood like a statue as she stretched towards his neck and sniffed.

"I know it was you by the lake tonight. I recognised your scent and now I recognise the angle my head has to take to look up at you." She gazed up at him, intently. "But I cant see what lies behind your eyes, Professor. You can switch them off, cant you, so that you appear to be a person without feelings, without emotion. Its all behind there; you _do _have poetry inside you, but with some clever magic and for some diabolical reason, you have to pull down the shutters."

She swallowed a lump rising in her throat as she continued.

"How could you allow yourself to hold me and kiss me the way you did out there by the lake, knowing you were unable to continue, knowing you would switch off, leaving me feeling...well, look behind _my_ eyes, Professor, and _see_ what I'm feeling. I can't pull down any shutters, so it must be obvious."

She stared into his eyes as she leaned upwards and very tentatively, placed a kiss on his closed lips. She recognised the softness of them, the texture of them, but there was no response.

His mouth did not move as her lips touched his. In fact his whole body seemed immobilised, as though deep in concentration.

She drew back and looked at him, her face as close to his as their different heights would allow.

"When was the last time you held someone in your arms as tenderly you held me yesterday, Professor?" she said, quietly. "When was the last time you kissed someone as softly and completely as you kissed me tonight? You lifted the shutters and allowed me in for a few moments, didnt you. Why? Why do that? With me?"

He swallowed hard. "Miss Carver-"

"I think you should call me Andrea."

"Miss Carver, I-"

"My name..." she looked up at him through her eyelashes as she moved her mouth closer to him, "Is Andrea."

He had neither moved away or towards her. He seemed to have turned to stone.

She pressed her mouth to his again and kissed him; not a quick kiss this time, but longer and with as much passion as his frozen lips would allow. It was like kissing the back of her hand when she was eleven.

She pulled away slightly, a small panic that shed got it wrong fluttered inside her.

_("...and by tracing it twice_

_I fell through the ice_

_Of Alice.")_

She lifted her hand to his face and stroked the bruise with the pad of her thumb and as she did, his hair brushed against the back of her hand; it felt sleek and silky, like a cat.

He didnt flinch at her touch. He didnt move away at her touch.

Emboldened by this and by her recent gift of clarity, she brought her mouth close to his.

"Let me in again," she whispered.

She kissed him again, as enticingly as she was able, as seductively as she knew how.

Then,

A momentary flutter, an awakening as she felt his mouth move against her own. Her heart quickened. Gently, she put more pressure into the kiss and then more as he responded, his mouth finally opening to her and meeting her pressure with his own. She gave a little moan of encouragement as she felt his tongue brush against her lips. The kiss deepened and once again she melted into the sweet delicious taste of him that set her body trembling with need.

Standing as high on her toes as she could, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling herself as close to him as possible and when his arms came around her back, she felt that bead of a tear form in the corner of her eye again, the relief was so great.

"_I fell through the ice..."_

Oh and she had...she _had_ fallen. Her body was on fire with the need for him, the ache for him. _Please_ God let this happen.

This kiss was not slow or soft and romantic like the one at the lake. This kiss had an urgency to it, a blatant demand that came from both of them, which she was so willing to claim, so eager to submit to.

Yet he gave no indication of moving this further. Oh, but she needed to!

Slowly, gently, she manoeuvred them around so that her back was facing the bedroom door. Making sure not to break the kiss in case it broke the moment, she began walking backwards, running her hands down his arms to take his hands, bringing him with her as she stepped across the threshold into the bedroom.

At last, she pulled away a little and he looked at her, his black eyes shining in the torch-light as she raised her hand to the sleeve of her dress and pulled it down over her shoulder.

Taking her arm out of the sleeve so that the material fell to her waist, exposing her breasts, she looked at him.

"You've watched me do this before, haven't you?" she said, quietly.

"Yes."

"I wanted you to see. I wanted you to watch."

"I know."

His hands moved to her hips and the fingers on his left hand began, with great deliberation, snapping the buttons open on her dress.

"Mmmmm. Your left hand is obviously more adept at undoing buttons than pouring water, _Professor._" She smiled, looking at him with big eyes.

"_Obviously," _he said huskily, as he looked back at her with a twitch to his lips, "my mind is better focused on the task this time, _Miss Carver."_

The silk slipped over her hips to the ground as the last button was released, and she immediately closed the gap between them, kissing him as her fingers found the fastenings of his trousers and undid them.

He moaned as she pushed her hand inside and caressed him, feeling the hardness and the length of him and wanting him so much she actually felt a little dizzy.

She slipped the clothes down over his hips, down his thighs, lifted her foot and placed it inside the crutch of his trousers, of his underwear, then pushed them down to the floor, enabling him to step out of them.

She gave a delighted squeal as he grasped the tops of her arms, taking her mouth to his with hot, insistent kisses, all the while guiding her backwards until her back met the bedpost. His body pressed against hers, pushing her against the post, her back cushioned from the hard wood by the thick bed hangings.

His hand cupped the back of her head, his thumb stroking her throat as he tilted her head up in order to kiss her deeper, harder; their tongues rolling, tasting, exploring; their breathing becoming heavy and noisy as the passion mounted.

The hand travelled down to her throat and then further until it found her breast and, as he caressed her she lifted her face towards the ceiling and sighed deeply as his touch sent her senses reeling.

She pressed her hips into him, urging him on, feeling every promising, enticing inch of him hard against her belly. There was now a furnace burning fiercely inside her. Frantically, she pushed his shirt open, away and off, his hand coming out of his sleeve and returning to travel up her thigh to her G-string.

His fingers found and released the catch as easily as though hed done it a hundred times before. The weight of the metal stars caused the whole thing to fall to the ground.

The last of the clothing now discarded, the need for each other became vital. Urgently, his hands ran over her bottom, around and down until they grasped the insides of her thighs from behind. The instant he lifted her, she wrapped herself around his hips, clutching him tightly, pulling him to her, both gasping their delight at the exquisite moment of oneness.

His hands moved back to her bottom and held her, supported her, encouraged her as they began a beautiful, beautiful rhythm that sent her tumbling over the edge of pleasure and into ecstasy.

Burning kisses placed on her shoulder, throat and neck saw her through her sighs and cries and desperate grasping of his back as she hit her peak, until she was able to return those kisses as his own moment of climax followed immediately after hers. His breathing came hard and hot against her neck, and as his body tensed, he gasped her name twice, making her splutter with relieved tears.

Panting, they stayed there; bodies hot and slippery with sweat, heads rubbing together slowly; lips kissing wherever they touched, until he whispered,

"Hold on to me."

She clutched him tightly as he moved away from the bedpost and knelt on the bed, manoeuvring their bodies to the centre.

They were still together; still joined.

"How...how are you doing this?" She gasped in disbelief.

"Hush," he whispered, softly. "Let me concentrate."

He put her down gently on the bed, his weight pressing on her inciting a whole new vortex of sensations inside. She felt enclosed by him, the scent of him, the immediacy of his flesh against hers. She looked up and their eyes met. For the first time she felt a warmth from his gaze and the intimacy of the look that passed between them sent an emotion flooding through her body, heating her whole being.

Slowly he closed his eyes and placed his lips upon hers and the kiss they shared was more delicious than any that had gone before.

She moaned with pleasure and surprise as he began moving again, slowly, sensually; his rhythm building until she picked it up and joined in.

She was writhing beneath him, meeting his body with movements of her own and as his thrusts deepened with the approach of his climax, she felt herself spiralling up into her own, their voices joined as they cried out with the sheer bliss of release at the same moment.

As they lay together quietly, in each others arms, she looked up at him.

"Now tell me how you did that."

"You forget," he said, softly. "You are not in the muggle world at the moment."

She grinned broadly. "Halle-bloody-lujah!"


	19. Liaison dangereus

Oh! You all write such lovely reviews. I really get excited each time I receive an e mail telling me one of you has reviewed. It makes my day. Kerichi; Furys Grace; Shonda; Quartz; The Realiz (I agree!); Andromida; Femmeloki - thank you so much.

Celtic Elf: Im blushing! And yes, I would like to do it professionally.

Helena Oe: How can _you _make a _review _so darn beautiful?! I loved it!

Thousandl; Hehehe, praise indeed!

For those of you who might be interested, I have almost completed a Snape/Hermione story which Im planning to start posting once this story has finished (I didnt think it right to have Snape getting off with both women at the same time!). Like Tonights The Night, it takes place over one night, so its quite a short story. Hope to see you all there. love and kisses - Severusgirl.

**Chapter Nineteen**

**LIAISON DANGEREUS**

She must have dozed off.

When she opened her eyes she was alone, but the bed was still warm - he'd only just left.

She could see a dim flicker of light through the doorway to the main room.

Leaving the bed, she grabbed her dress as the only available thing to throw over her shoulders and padded across to the door.

He was sitting on a chair by the fire, a blanket around his shoulders. He was staring into the dying embers and her heart dropped at what she read in his face.

_Has your mind taken hold again, Professor?_

"Severus?"

He glanced up.

"Bit kinky to call you Professor now, dont you think?" she smiled, attempting, without much hope, to lighten the mood.

He remained silent.

She went over and knelt before him, putting her hands on his knees.

"Are you OK?"

He looked as though about to speak, but didnt. He put his hands on hers.

"You...you're regretting whats happened?" Her heart dipped further. It had been so wonderful, it would hurt her so much if he said yes.

"I...no...yes..." She'd never heard him speak in such an unorganised way before. She looked at him, feeling her eyes prickling. "My weakness may have...put you in danger."

Her mind couldnt make sense of that. She frowned. "Danger? What on earth do you mean?"

He looked at her and leaned forward, taking her hands in his.

"I came to this school many years ago, at the Headmasters invitation." He spoke quietly, carefully. These words did not come from him easily. Andi wondered if anyone else had ever heard them before. "I had...angered someone; to the extent he wanted..._wants _me dead. This...person is very dangerous - ruthless. I am safe at Hogwarts but you, by your association with me, may now be in danger." She looked at him, questioningly. "If he cannot reach his target, he will go after those closest to them. He may seek you out if he learns of this."

"But...how on _earth _would he know about something thats happened in private?"

"He has ways and means. I should not have allowed this to happen - you had no idea what you were walking into." He looked at her. "I have things in my past-"

"We all do."

"No." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "No. You don't."

She glanced down at his left arm and stroked her thumb over a hideous burn mark.

"It's all to do with this, isn't it."

He looked at her strangely. "You have retained your clarity?"

She shrugged. "You're sitting here, blaming yourself, but if I hadn't barged into your room this evening-"

"No. I realised I was in trouble the moment I found you unconscious on the grass, with your bottom on display in that ridiculous...but enchanting...strip of cloth you call underwear. The situation wasn't helped by your little floor show by the lake two nights ago."

"It wasnt my danger-day so...I guess it had to be my mental state that triggered the Night-Diamond."

He nodded and sighed. "It was then I realised we were _both _in trouble. I had thought myself capable of managing the situation but...well, it appears I am merely flesh and blood after all!"

"Does that disappoint you?"

He considered. "It has rather...shocked me. If the Headmaster had taken you away to a room in the Ministry...that would have been the correct procedure. That is why I protested when he left you here and instructed me to look after you."

"Why did he?"

"I have no idea; but the Headmasters actions quite frequently have a hidden agenda."

She still had her thumb over the mark on his arm. She glanced down at it again and stroked it. She remembered all the warnings she'd had before getting the dolphin tattooed on her back; that she would regret it when she was older and how difficult it would be to remove.

Gently he lifted her thumb from his arm and covered the mark with the edge of the blanket.

"Severus," She shuffled closer and put her hand on his cheek. "The man who made love to me tonight was _not_ the man who took that mark. Look, it's the middle of the night. Can we worry about all of this in the morning? You can explain everything to me then. Just for now, let's go back to bed and enjoy the rest of the night, hmmm?"

He looked at her and she smiled.

"I like your eyes like this. They're...mmmmm, black velvet. Is that how they really look?"

"I couldn't say. It has been so long since I looked at anything this way."

"Come on," She stood up, pulled him to his feet, leaving the blanket on the chair and slipped her arms around his neck. "The deed is done. It can't make the situation any worse if we do it again, can it?"

She leaned up and kissed him and as they embraced, her dress slipped from her shoulders onto the hearth.

She gave a surprised squeal as he picked her up and began carrying her back to the bedroom. He held her up, close to his chest so they could kiss. He held her in such a way that left his hand free to roam her nether regions and she felt his fingers teasing and stroking and entering, as he moved towards the bedroom.

She clutched him tightly, squirming against him, moving her hips in time with him as his fingers worked her body. Sighing and gasping into his shoulder, he made her come before they'd even reached the bed.

"Oh my God!" she cried as he put her down on the pillows. "I _love _wizard sex!"

She thought she heard a buried laugh.

As he came to her, she stopped him, pushed him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him.

Holding his face in both her hands she bent to kiss him, feeling his bodys immediate response. Breaking off, she began tracing kisses across his jaw, feeling the scratchiness of a days beard-growth, before moving on down his neck to his throat, burying her nose in the, oh so beautiful scent of his skin. Running her hands over his chest, letting her fingers stroke through the hair as her lips followed, she let her tongue play with his nipples before trailing downwards.

"Hmmmmm?"

"It's your turn." She breathed over his flesh as she licked a path from his waist to the hollow of his navel, her tongue darting in and teasing, revelling in the salty, musky, male taste of him as she listened to the moans of pleasure coming from above.

Her hand left his hip and went before her as she trailed her lips further down his belly.

"Andrea...?" he said in an unsteady, rasping voice, his hips bucking slightly as her fingers curled around him and began stroking.

"Uh hu?" she replied, her mouth finally joining her hand.

The sounds of his orgasm were almost as exciting as having her own.


	20. Where Did You Sleep Last Night?

Hi everyone. Thanks for your reviews. We seem to have lost some regulars and gained new readers. Messages for everyone at the end. lol.

**Chapter Twenty**

**Where Did You Sleep Last Night?**

She woke with a start, certain she'd heard something.

Her body was turned in to him, her head in his shoulder, arm flung across his chest and one leg between his.

She looked up at him.

"Hmmm. Did you say something?" He looked at her through half-closed eyes.

"No, I..."

They both jumped as they heard a knock on the door to the quarters.

She gave a cry of pain as their skin ripped apart like sticking plaster and they both dived out of bed. In the rush, her leg tangled in the sheet. Frantically she extracted herself and ran to where she'd taken her dress off the night before - but it wasn't there.

"Wha...where...?"

She glanced all around, puzzled, and as she turned, saw him going out of the room, fully dressed, closing the door securely behind him.

She padded over to the door and listened.

"My sincere apologies, Severus." That was Albus Dumbledore.

"No need to apologise for punctuality, Dumbledore," she heard an unfamiliar, rather bumptious voice say. "It's nine o'clock as arranged."

She heard people shuffling into the room.

"Our visitor's not here, I see," said the unknown voice.

"No, Minister," said Snape. "I believe she had rather a late night. She may have overslept."

_Oh Severus, you are so cool._

"Well, perhaps we could get one of the house-elves to wake her? I do have rather a busy day ahead and to be quite honest, I'm not quite sure why Dumbledore wants me here at all."

Then a thought struck Andi. Whatever happened, she would eventually have to make an appearance and it would have to be through _this_ door.

Shit!

They were trapped.

She looked around again for her dress and her heart sank as she realised it was still crumpled on the floor by the fire. Not only would they see it lying there, but she was naked and no clothes to put on.

_Severus, please get back in here._

Perhaps he could magic her back to her own room or something, so she could make her entrance through the expected door. Or at least whisk her up some clothes.

She went to his wardrobe and opened it. Shirts and trousers which couldn't possibly fit her...but, hey... She took down a black gown - a teacher's gown. It was too long for her, but with a belt of some kind it might just work.

She pulled the gown around her and fastened it with the cord from the bed hangings, then went back to listen at the door.

"Well, I can't hang around all day, Dumbledore...Oh I say, Snape, I wouldn't leave such delicate material so near the fire..."

Andi cringed as she realised the Minister had seen her dress.

There was a silence that Andi could feel through the door.

"This appears to be a woman's dress! Why would a woman's dress be on the floor of your living quarters, Snape?"

"Cornelius, I rather think that is Severus's business." said Dumbledore, quietly.

"It is also _Ministry _business, Dumbledore. We don't run a school for all kinds of shenanigans to take place, you know."

Andi stood there feeling like a sixth-former who'd been caught snogging in the broom cupboard. Then she thought, _why_ am I feeling like that? We're two grown adults. What the hell has this got to do with the Minister - or anybody?

Well, she was going to do something about this.

She opened the bedroom door and walked out as if it was an every day occurrence.

All three faces turned to her.

Having to carry a handful of gown so as not to trip over, she glided up to Snape and stood on tiptoes to peck him on the cheek.

"Good morning, Darling. Oh, Headmaster..." she said in her best 'hostess' voice as she walked over to him, extending her hand. "It's lovely to see you again." Then she turned to the Minister and extended her hand to him. "You must be the Minister for Magic. How do you do? I'm Andrea Carver. I'm so sorry, we appear to have overslept. Have you both eaten? Severus and I were about to have breakfast, would you care to join us? Darling, would you do the honours?"

Snape, stunned, moved slowly to the fireplace and pulled out the brass handle.

"Minister, what can we get you?" she smiled, invitingly.

The Minister looked completely thrown. "Er...just...er...coffee will, um, do."

"Headmaster?" She turned to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement.

"A large bowl of Sugar Puffs, please," he answered. "And tea."

She turned to Snape. "And I'll have my usual, Darling - French toast and tea."

"Severus," said Dumbledore, still smiling. "If you are to have guests for breakfast, you really should get a few more chairs." He waved his wand and two extra chairs appeared at the table.

"I'm sorry, Dumbledore, but this is _most _irregular," said the Minister, clearly agitated. "These quarters have obviously been used for dubious purposes. Snape, I must say, I am shocked. You have taken advantage of your position, and of Josie here..." The Minister reeled at his own words and turned a deep shade of claret.

There was a heavy silence, and then Dumbledore said quietly, "I wondered how long it would take, Cornelius, for you to acknowledge the striking similarity between Andrea and Josephine Carver."

Andi jumped to hear her Grandmother's name coming from Dumbledore's mouth. "How do you know...?"

Dumbledore smiled at her. "I recognised your face the day you arrived here, my dear. Coupled with your name, it left little doubt that you were related to a young Muggle woman who came to Hogwarts forty-seven years ago-"

"Forty-eight," said the Minister, quietly.

Dumbledore lifted an eyebrow. "Really? I _am_ getting forgetful in my old age."

Andi sat down heavily on a chair. "My...my gran was _here?!" _

"She arrived in a similar fashion to yourself - through the archway in the Castle ruins. In fact, her finding the stone paved your own way to us."

Andi thought of her Gran making her promise to visit the castle ruins. Had Gran _known _what would happen?

"Your grandmother had to stay at Hogwarts while we arranged for her to be sent home. Cornelius was at the time, about to enter the Ministry, but spent a few months as a relief teacher here. As he had fewer duties than the rest of my staff, I put him in charge of the young lady while she was here." He turned to the Minister. "I believe you became good friends, Cornelius."

"Yes...yes, we did..." replied the Minister, frowning.

Andi stared at the Minister and then looked up at Dumbledore. He smiled at her and nodded gently.

"Miss Carver, you have been given clarity, I see. Would you care to tell Cornelius what you all ready know?"

Andi looked back at the Minister. "Minister..." she began, and then hesitated. How on earth should she say this? "Minister...my gran had a holiday romance while she was here. My...my mother was born nine months later."

The Minister went white, pulled out a chair and sat down heavily. He stared at Andi.

"Josie...she...I..."

"Severus, a glass of water for the Minister, I think," said Dumbledore.

Snape had been standing by the fireplace watching silently. He went to the bedroom and came back with a glass of water, put it in front of the Minister, then sat down at the table.

The Minister took a mouthful of water, his hand shaking as he raised the glass to his lips.

Andi all ready knew the answer to the next question, but wanted to hear it acknowledged.

"Minister...are you...are you my grandfather?"

He looked at her and she saw his eyes shining with moisture.

"Josie and I... Yes, we... I never knew! I never knew! Why on earth didn't she _tell _me?"

"Because she would have had no way of contacting you, Cornelius, and also I imagine, because you had done nothing to stop her returning home. A mistake I believe you regret to this day."

"I meant to keep in touch but..."

"Your Ministry ambitions and your tendency to bury your head in the sand, prevented you. Ah, breakfast."

The house-elves arrived with the food. They set it down on the table and left. No one moved to eat or drink.

The Minister looked up at Andi. "Yes, my dear. I believe I _am _your grandfather." He smiled.

Andi smiled back at him, feeling strange about all this. It felt, suddenly, wonderfully, as though she'd got a little bit of her gran back again. He was now her only living relative. Well, apart from her mother of course, but she didn't count.

The Minister glanced at Snape and his face darkened. He stood up slowly from his chair and withdrew his wand from his cloak, gesturing for Snape to stand.

With a bewildered expression, Snape stood and then backed away to the cabinet as the Minister advanced on him, pointing his wand at his chest.

"How _dare _you take advantage of my granddaughter!"

---------

Thousandl - It certainly wouldn't get any worse in my eyes!

FemmeLoki - thank you. I've never read Harlequin, but sort of know what they are - pretty sugary?

Helena Oe - another update! Thanks for making me happy with your enthusiasm for my story.

Kerichi - I think we'll leave kinky for another story - or later, perhaps - who knows?!

Inversnaid - thanks for reading. I really appreciate new readers.

Persephone Lupin - I am overwhelmed that you have read the story from start to finish. Is your name really Andrea? Thank you for all your recent reviews. There are SOME Tom Waits songs that are just beautiful - try 'Take It With Me' and 'I'm Still Here'.


	21. The Heat Of The Moment

Oh, I thought I would get you shouting at me if you received a New Chapter Alert from me, and it wasnt for this story, so I decided it might be best to upload this next chapter at the same time. I loved all your reviews, especially from the new readers. I hope you continue to the end - not long now - and Furys Grace - I am SO sorry I left you off my last notes. I really didnt mean to. However, you did get your own message a few chapters ago, when no one else did, so maybe that makes up for it! lol Severusgirl.

**THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT**

Andi didnt know whether to laugh or cry. This was _so _sweet. Five minutes after learning he was her grandfather, he was trying to protect her.

She jumped up and went to the Minister, who was bouncing on his feet, his wand still threatening Snape.

Gently, she put her hand on his arm.

"Min...erm..." She no longer knew what to call him. "I _wasn't _taken advantage of. I haven't been seduced if that's what you think. In fact, if anything..." She looked at Snape and smiled, warmly. "It was the other way around."

The Minister looked at her astonished. "Well, I must say...I was only trying to..."

Andi took him by the arm and led him back to the table.

"I have some photos of Gran in my bag, would you like to see them? I'll go and get them."

She made towards the door.

"Allow me." Dumbledore waved his hand and Andis bag appeared on the table.

Hesitating at first, in case it was hot or something, she opened the bag and began rummaging through. She was so eager to find the photos, that when a few moments of searching through the junk produced nothing, she tipped the whole contents over the table, not caring this time what was displayed or seen.

Things scattered everywhere, falling on the floor, the chairs, the table. She scrabbled around until her hands alighted on her credit-card wallet. She opened it at the photo page and handed it to the Minister.

The Ministers mouth fell open as he gazed at the two photos of Andis grandmother.

"My goodness, she's better looking now than when I knew her!"

Andi had been putting things back into her bag. She stopped and her heart gave a lurch as she heard him use the present tense. She looked at him.

"Gran...died two years ago, Minister," she said, gently.

He looked up at her and his face was so distraught that it brought her own grief to the surface. She bent her head and continued packing things into her bag, her eyes blurring.

There was a silence.

"I think," said Dumbledore after a while, "that you both need a little time together."

"Unfortunately, _no_ time, Dumbledore," said the Minister, thickly.

"Which brings me to a proposal. Firstly, however - as I try never to take things at their face value - and you must pardon my intrusion, Severus, but I need confirmation that Andreas situation has indeed changed."

Snape took a deep breath before replying, "Yes, Headmaster, it has."

Dumbledore studied Snape over the top of his spectacles. "You appreciate _what_ I am asking?"

Another deep breath. "Yes."

"Very well. And Andrea is aware...?"

"Of the problem, yes."

Andi looked from Snape to Dumbledore. This was obviously connected with what shed been told last night.

"Cornelius, if Andrea is to return to the Muggle world, she will need wizard protection. I would therefore like her to remain at Hogwarts for a further day or so while that is put into action. It will give you both a chance to talk."

"P...protection? Why would she need protection?" said the Minister.

"Do I have your permission to continue, Severus?"

Snape inclined his head.

"You are aware, Cornelius, that Severus was once in the employment of Voldemort."

Andi was astounded to see a reaction from both men at the sound of the name.

"But that he deflected and came to Hogwarts to work for me. This action put his life in danger and as we all know, Voldemort will stop at nothing to seek revenge - even if that includes harming the people closest to his enemies. By her association with Severus, Andrea may now be in danger."

"By the hounds of hell, Snape, you have a lot to answer to." The Minister stood up, his face furious.

Andi stepped towards him and touched his arm.

"I've all ready explained, I was the instigator in this. I admit, it would have been handy to know about this threat beforehand." She grinned. "But I can't say it would have stopped me. You know how things are...in the heat of the moment." She actually blushed as she looked at her grandfather.

He looked at her and patted her hand indulgently.

"Yes...yes...perhaps I do." Then he pointed at Snape. "But _you _should have known better. By thunder, you're old enough. Come to think of it, aren't you a little _too _old to be meddling with my granddaughter?"

"Cor-ne-li-us!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "We are all very touched that you wish to play the protective grandparent, but please allow these people their privacy."

"Minister," Snape spoke in a soft, dangerous voice as he swept around to the other side of the table. "I can assure you that had I my wits about me at the time, this thing would _never _have happened..."

Andi stared at him, her face feeling hot.

"I cannot express my dismay at the turn of events..."

She felt a knot appearing in her chest. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear any more.

"Because of a momentary lapse..."

"_Three _momentary lapses," she reminded him.

Snape scowled at her.

The Minister coloured.

Dumbledore appeared to be having trouble with a twitch and turned to look at the wall.

"Miss Carver _must _have full wizard protection when she returns to the Muggle world." Snape stepped back and trod on something. Bending down, he picked up her _pocket pleaser._ "That is the second time I have picked this up for you, Miss Carver," he said, irritably, looking at her with cold, hard eyes.

"So it is, _Professor_," she snapped, riled by his comments and the sudden reverting back to her surname. "A third time and you can keep it." She snatched it off him, hissing, "And you know where you can shove it!" Then she looked at what she was holding and realised what a redundant threat it had been.

She moved to her bag and flung it in.

"Why can't she stay here?"

Everyone stared at the Minister.

"Cornelius?"

"Yes, I've been thinking, Dumbledore. Who better to teach Muggle Studies...than a Muggle? And she'd be safe at Hogwarts-"

"No vested interest for you, then, Minister?" said Snape, sarcastically.

"Neither for you, Snape, by the sound of things," snapped the Minister.

"You know, Cornelius, that is a jolly good idea," said Dumbledore, and Andi knew immediately that he'd been waiting for one of them to suggest it. "Although I do all ready have a competent Muggle Studies teacher. However, I believe Andrea, you are an accomplished pianist?"

"Are you really?" said the Minister, looking around proudly.

"Erm..." Andi was having trouble keeping up with the pace of things. "I...yes...I mean, yes, and clarinet and sax..but..."

"We have an excellent choir here and the classes in wizard music are always popular," continued Dumbledore. "But we do not have any facility for the study of Muggle music, which I believe in many cases, excels our own. It would be wonderful to include it as a complimentary study."

"You...you're asking me to _stay _here and _teach_? Hum..ha...but...I dont have any teaching qualifications."

"Phsssh, thats never bothered Dumbledore in the past, I can assure you!" quipped the Minister. "Anyone can see youd be ten times better than a lot of people he's hired."

"I appreciate you will have commitments to honour at home, and obviously there will be certain..." Dumbledore glanced at Snape, "factors to take into consideration, but you will be _most _welcome; especially, I think amongst those first year students who come from muggle homes. They can often be a little overwhelmed and homesick sometimes. Oh, and we _do_ need an extra House Master for Hufflepuff." He smiled at her, invitingly. "All I ask is that you consider it as an option."

"Headmaster, I hardly think it appropriate that a Muggle teach at Hogwarts." Snape was standing across the table from Andi, but spoke as though she wasn't there. "Without a full understanding of how the wizard world works, she will easily become a burden rather than an asset."

She stared down at the table as she listened. The elation she had felt a moment ago at Dumbledore's offer, popped like a balloon.

"Not to mention the students running rings around her once they learn what she is. There is hardly any merit in teaching Muggle music to wizards."

Andi had gone cold. She supposed his arguments might be quite valid; quite sensible; but this had to be the most hurtful and humiliating 'last-night-was-great-but...' speech she'd ever heard.

"Miss Carver does not belong in the wizarding world, even with the drop of wizard blood she possesses. I believe she will be very unhappy and uncomfortable in such an environment. She has encountered numerous problems in just the few days she has been here."

She'd never had a one-night-stand before, and now she realised how they could happen. Shed had no thoughts of what would happen the following day - the inevitable goodbye. She had just followed the moment. She was no better than her mother.

"She has no sense of direction. It would be ludicrous to put her in a school of this size."

Andi couldn't believe this was the same man who, just a few hours ago had shared such intimate moments with her. He was speaking as though they'd shared nothing more than a brief hello. God, this hurt. Andi actually had a pain in her chest. She was breathing carefully, trying to control her emotions, but knew they were dangerously close to the surface.

"No one regrets more than I, this unfortunate episode..."

She swallowed. She was managing to hold back the tears but her nose was running. She would have to sniff in a moment and then everyone would know she was about to cry.

"For which I hold myself fully responsible. Having observed her these past few days, I can assure you she would not survive at Hogwarts. She is a highly emotional person who wears her heart on her sleeve. Hardly apt material for a teacher. She _must _be returned to the Muggle world with full wizard protection and, I suggest, with her memory modified."

The last few words sent a tear tumbling from each eye. 'Memory modified'? Did that mean what she thought it meant?

Snape sat down with an air of finality.

A high-pitched _WHEEEEEEE..._ issued from under his bottom.

He shot up as if hed sat on a pin.

"..._WOOOOOOOO..."_

With a look of incredulity, he reached down and picked up her lucky penguin which must have landed on his chair when Andi had tipped her bag up.

Andi felt she was going to explode. No one could cope with the war of emotions going on inside. There was a pain seering at her heart and yet she wanted to laugh until she was sick. She thought she would die if she stayed in the room.

Without a word, she ran..


	22. Bewitched

I cannot believe I am about to post the last chapter to this story. I'm going to miss Andi SO much. As I can't reply to your reviews for this chapter, I will say now, thank you all SO much for reading this story. I have really enjoyed writing it, and some of you have been with me right from the start. Every single review has been very much appreciated, and I hope this final chapter meets with your approval.

Lots of love, as always,

Severusgirl.

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**BEWITCHED**

She just ran. 

Without thinking, she ran. 

Upstairs...turn right...turn left...green door...silver handle.... 

Without any map, Andi found her way to the music room as though by instinct. She threw herself on the piano stool, lifted the lid of the piano and began pounding on the keys: 

Beethoven...Wagner...anything to vent her anger, heartache, frustration. Her fingers hurt from the force with which she was driving them; sweat trickling down her temples, her ears throbbing with the noise. 

Then she stopped playing, dropped her forehead onto the top of the piano and let the tears fall. 

She cried for her mother, whom she now suspected had been judged too harshly; she cried for herself, because although she hadn't looked further than the events of last night, she realised now that last night was all there would be. The invitation to stay at Hogwarts had felt like coming home. She now had more family, more people to care about on _this_ side of the archway, but she knew she couldn't stay. Not now. And she cried for Cornelius and Gran, for being apart for so long when they had clearly loved each other. 

Her fingers fell to the keyboard again and began picking out a tune. A beautiful tune. It was an old standard that had been her Gran's favourite and of course, it now made sense. She had played and sung it often for her Gran, and Andi sang it now: 

"_I'm wild again,_

_Beguiled again,_

_A whimpering, simpering_

_Child again_

_Bewitched, bothered and bewildered_

_Am I...._

__

_...Lost my heart,_

_But what of it?_

_He is cold, I agree_

_He can laugh, but I love it_

_Although the laugh's on me..."_

She was aware of him standing in the doorway. She stopped singing, but continued to play. 

"If you have come to further your argument, Professor, I have to remind you of the kind of person I am - I have my heart well and truly on my sleeve and I am very emotional right now." 

He walked slowly into the room towards the piano, his hands behind his back. 

"The Headmaster and Minister have left," he said. "Neither was very impressed by my speech. Your grandfather in particular called me 'a cad of the highest order' and expressed a desire to see me boiled in oil. The Headmaster was a little more discrete - he wishes you to know that, should you decide to take the teaching post offered, you will find the other members of staff far nicer than his 'short-sighted, idiotic and self-destructive Potions Master'... 

"They will return tonight to hear your decision about staying here. There seems a consensus of opinion that your dormant wizard genes may have been activated, since you have retained the clarity given to you." 

She skipped a verse and sang: 

"_Wise at last_

_My eyes at last_

_Are cutting you down _

_To your size at last..."_

__

He smirked at her words. 

"You seem to manage that quite well _without_ clarity. In particular our first dinner, when you so eloquently called me 'a wanker'; and then again this morning when I sat on your damn penguin." 

Andi couldn't help a splutter of laughter at the thought, but then determinedly concentrated on the keyboard. 

"That you were able to let yourself into my quarters yesterday evening, when the door bares one of my own locking charms, also points to the fact...that..." 

"I am able to break through your barriers, magical as well as emotional - and that's scared the hell out of you, hasn't it Professor. No wonder you all but physically threw me from the castle." 

Without replying, he brought his hands from behind his back and placed something on top of the piano. She looked up. It was a glass bottle with some lavender coloured liquid inside. 

She looked at him. 

"A peace-offering," he said. "It is a potion for your hair. I believe it helps with...'split ends'." 

"Thank you," she replied, surprised he would even register her trivial babblings. 

"I shall not bother you with the ingredients - I don't believe you would use it if you knew." 

"I'll try and remember to pack it in my bag before I leave." 

"Andrea..." 

She played with unnecessary vigour. 

"It's not that I expected you to want me to stay; of course I didn't," she said, ignoring him. "One night of sex - however fantastic..." she glanced up at him. "...does not a relationship make. But did you have to make your objections so hurtful; say them with such conviction , so soon after we'd...?" 

"Andrea..." 

"I guess I've just never been dumped so forcefully or so quickly, that's all - I mean, the bed was still warm..." 

"Andrea..." he said, sternly. "...will you walk with me?" 

Her fingers ground to a halt. 

"I beg your pardon?" 

"Will you walk with me? And bring your music." He indicated the manuscript she'd left lying on top of the piano. He turned and began walking out of the room. She stared after him. 

"Well...are you coming, or not?" 

Curious, she gathered up her music quickly, grabbed the potion, a handful of gown and followed him out of the room. 

He swept along the corridors and up staircases, so that Andi had almost to trot to keep up with him. 

"Where are we going?" 

"Don't talk. You will need all your breath, it is another five floors..." 

Andi calculated they had reached the seventh floor when they came to a stop in a corridor which, along one side, was completely bare of ornaments and paintings of any kind. On the opposite wall was a huge tapestry of some unlikely beings ballet dancing. 

He turned to her and held out his hand for the manuscript. Bewildered she handed it to him and watched as he flicked through the pages. 

"Sit there." He indicated a stone bench next to the tapestry. 

She was out of breath after climbing six flights of stairs and so sat, gratefully. He, on the other hand, seemed unaffected. 

She watched with growing concern as he paced up and down the corridor at a measured distance, his eyes closed in concentration, holding the score to his chest, until on the third return he stopped and faced the bare wall. 

Andi's heart skipped a beat, her eyes widened and she stood up in surprise as, in the middle of the wall appeared a shiny blue door with brass handle. 

A door that really, really hadn't been there before. She looked at him. 

"You're really good at doors, aren't you? Have you ever considered cabaret?" 

He came up to her. 

"Behind this door is the Room of Requirements. In it you will find everything you need to play this piece of music," he said. "Do you think you are up to performing?" 

What was all this? 

"Y-es." she answered. 

He handed back the manuscript. 

"My behaviour this morning was..." 

"Typical?" 

He gave her a wry smile. 

"I was going to say 'less than chivalrous' - considering the situation in which I found myself was very _far _from 'typical'." He looked away slightly. "Words of contrition are not my forte. I believe I would only make thing worse by muttering inadequate or misplaced sentiments so..." his eyes looked back at her. "I hope you might accept _this _as my apology..." 

He took her hand, opened the door and led her into the room. 

Andi stopped dead. 

The room was not a room. 

It was a concert hall. 

A huge circular hall with a very high ceiling. At the back was a raised floor with... 

Andi gave a disbelieving splutter. 

...an orchestra waiting patiently, instruments in hand, and a conductor at a pedestal. 

In front of them was a large black shiny piano, open and ready to play. 

Andi turned to Snape, her mouth open. 

"Very professional." He put his hand on her chin and closed her mouth. "You mentioned you had not played the piece with an orchestra before - here is your chance." 

"But..." 

"Play." 

Feeling completely dazed, she handed him the potion bottle and then, clutching the manuscript, walked over to the conductor, shook his hand and said, 

"Erm...Rachmaninov; Piano Concerto Number Two in C minor?" 

The conductor nodded, silently. 

She returned to the piano and settled herself. 

"I don't have a page turner," she said, turning to Snape. 

"They will turn when needed." 

He seated himself somewhere over her left shoulder, out of her eye line. 

She put her fingers to the keys, and glanced over to the conductor. He nodded and raised his baton. 

Oh, Wow! This was _it _then... 

Andi bit her lip and began, gasping when the orchestra came in, and thrilled to hear herself playing this piece accompanied for the first time by a _real_ orchestra, rather than the one in her head. 

Now she was on the roller coaster ride, unable to stop, her fingers working, almost without her brain telling her what to do. It seemed as though a curtain had been raised; never before had she seen the music so clearly. Even before she'd reached the end of the first movement she was no longer reading the score, but working from memory. She was at one with the orchestra; they played together as though they had rehearsed a dozen or more times. Her emotions, all ready brought to the surface by the events of the morning, rose and fell dramatically with the music, her hands more expressive than she could ever have hoped. 

The second movement - calmer than the first but no less demanding - brought tears to her eyes as she played. 

On to the third and final movement, probably her favourite, the music forcing her fingers to leap and dance over the keyboard until the end came in to view; the dramatic finale to one of the world's most romantic pieces of music. 

When, after thirty-five minutes of high concentration, the end finally came, she just sat, trembling, unable to move, unable to open her eyes for the emotion of the moment. Tears leaked from under her closed lids. The echoes of the music ringing in her ears. 

She felt a hand take the side of her face and turn it, then lips on hers, pressing firmly, passionately, and she gave into them, accepting all that he offered, feeling her heart beating hard against his body as their arms slid around each other. 

She couldn't believe the tidal wave of emotions that swelled from deep within her as the remaining effects of the music melded with the sheer longing for him; every piece of him - good and bad - until she knew...she knew...that in spite of everything - she had fallen in love. 

She broke off with a sob, kissing his cheek, her hands around his back, holding him tight, her mouth close to his ear. 

"Thank you for this," she whispered, choked. Then bringing her face round to look up at him, she smiled. "Apology _very much_ accepted." 

"I realise I may have made a mistake, dismissing music from my life," he said quietly, taking her hands from his back and holding them. 

"None of us is infallible, Professor," she smiled, using his own words from the night before and feeling a delight that she might have awakened his appreciation for something she loved so much. 

"Indeed," he agreed, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He lifted his finger to wipe a tear from her cheek. "And you seem to have an ability to unearth my weaknesses and bring them to my attention." 

He took both her hands again and looked down at them as he ran his thumbs over her knuckles. 

"I...very much enjoyed hearing you play. I would like to hear more." 

"Oh no, I couldn't possible - I'm completely played-out..." 

He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed the soft underside of her fingers before looking into her eyes. 

"I didn't mean today." 

He stood, drawing her away from the stool and into the curve of the piano. It was then she noticed they were quite alone. The conductor, the orchestra had all disappeared. 

He reached to her waist and began untying the cord that fastened the black gown of his she was wearing. 

"A word of advice - a teacher's gown is supposed to hang freely. It will give you an air of authority." He released the gown and it swung open, revealing her naked body. He took a step back and surveyed her. "See? And this..." He took the cord and came up close so that her face was in his shoulder. "...is much better employed thus..." He took her hands behind her back and tied them together with the cord. 

He looked at her, his face close, and once again she saw the wonderful soft velvety blackness of his eyes. He took her face in both his hands and kissed her. Automatically, she went to put her hands around his neck, forgetting they were trapped behind her back. 

His lips moved to her ear and then down her neck, his hands inside the gown, running over her body until she was breathless, her body responding to each kiss, each touch. 

His mouth reached her breast and she gasped at the feel of his tongue flicking over her nipple. She would have lost her balance had he not been holding her by the hips, the tips of his fingers stroking over the patch of skin where her dolphin was tattooed. 

The fact she couldn't touch him in any way was torturously erotic. Curiously it gave her a feeling of power, even though she was the one bound - a feeling that was accentuated as he sank to his knees, burying his face in her stomach as he kissed his way down. 

She caught her breath and leaned back against the piano as his hands grasped her buttocks and tilted her hips upwards, his mouth immediately dipping between her legs, sending sizzling pleasure up, round and through her body. 

This was the first time...no one had ever... 

Andi looked down at him, on his knees in front of her. 

"Am I..." she gasped through her rising passion, her whole body now trembling with the sensations his tongue was producing. "...am I cutting you down to your size again?" 

He stopped to look up at her. 

"Bewitchingly so..._Professor_ Carver." 

The End


End file.
